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THE  ETHICS 

^ ■ OF 

BENEDICT  DE  SPINOZA 

DEMONSTRATED  AFTER  THE  METHODS  OF  GEOMETERS,  AND  DIVIDED  INTO 


FIVE  PARTS 


IN  WHICH  ARE  TREATED  SEPARATELY 


I.  OF  GOD.  II.  OF  THE  SOUL 

III.  OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS 

IV.  OF  MAN’S  SLAVERY,  OR  THE  FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS 

V.  OF  MAN’S  FREEDOM,  OR  THE  POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING 


FROM  THE  LATIN 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTORY  SKETCH  OF  SPINOZA’S  LIFE 
AND  WRITINGS 


One  God  and  Father  of  all.  who  is  above  all,  and  through  all,  and  in 
' you  all.”— Paul,  Epist.  Ephes.,  iv,  6 

“ For  in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being.” — ACTS,  xvii,  28 


D.  VAN  NOSTRAND,  New  York 
G.  P.  PUTNAM’S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  & LONDON 

' 1888 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 
CHESTNUT  HILU  MASS.. 


vOc/'tW  4.  ^ h'^y 

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B^?73 


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COPYRIGHT  BY 

D.  VAN  NOSTRAND 

1876 


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TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


High  up  on  tlie  roll  of  the  world’ s great  Thinkers 
stands  the  name  of  Benedict  de  Siiinoza.  Xot  many 
American  readers,  however,  have  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  become  acquainted  with  the  writings  of 
this  celebrated  philosoiiher.  Perhaps  the  class 
of  minds  that  would  take  any  trouble  to  seek  for 
and  carefully  study  and  appreciate  them  may  not 
be  a large  one,  although,  with  the  iirogress  of  sci- 
ence and  general  knowledge,  it  is  doubtless  in- 
creasing. 

In  presenting  to  the  few  who  may  desire  to  read  in 
their  own  language  the  following  version  of  Spinoza’s 
greatest  Avork,  the  Ethics,  I Imre  hesitated  about 
accompanying  it  Avith  any  introductory  remarks, 
unless  it  Avere  by  Avay  of  apology  for  my  under- 
taking ; but  as  this  is  the  first  time  that  a transla- 
tion of  any  of  his  AA^orks  has  been  published  iii  the 
United  States  it  may  not  be  improper,  nor  altogether 
useless,  to  follow  a general  practice  and  refer  brietiy 
to  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  life,  gleaned  from  the 
Avritings  of  his  biographers'^  and  his  OAvn  corre- 

* La  Vie  de  B.  de  Spinoza,  tiree  des  ecrits  de  ce  fameux  pbilosophe, 
et  du  temoignage  de  plusieurs  personnes  dignes  de  foi,  qui  Font  connu 
particulierement.  Par  Jean  Golems,  Ministre  de  I’Eglise  Lutlierienne 
de  la  Haye.  A la  Haye.  Chez  T.  Johnson,  Marchand  Libraire,  dans 
le  Pooten.  1706. 

Also,  a life  of  Spinoza  by  Dr,  Lucas,  a physician  at  the  Hague,  a 


IV 


TKANSLATOirS  PKEFACE. 


sponclence,  with  such  bibliographic  mention  of  his 
several  ivorks  as  may  serve  to  assist  the  reader  in 
forming  an  estimate  of  his  character,  and  make 
known  the  subjects  which  occupied  his  thoughts. 

That  remarkable  race  which  in  its  earlier  history 
had  produced  Lawgivers,  Historians,  Proj^hets,  Poets, 
and  Proverbialists  whose  writings  have,  probably, 
been  as  widely  read  as  any  that  ever  came  from  the 
j)ens  of  men, — the  race  that  gave  to  the  world  one 
whom  unnumbered  millions  have  adored  and  wor- 
shipped,— a race  which  for  more  than  fifteen  cen- 
turies had  been  dispersed  throughout  Europe  and 
the  world,  often  despised,  persecuted,  despoiled, 
and  driven  hither  and  thither,  even  by  those  whose 
religion  acknowledged  them  to  be  the  ‘‘ chosen  peo- 
ple” of  God,  at  length  gave  birth  to  a philoso]3her 
whose  writings  have  had  a deep  and  wide-spread  in- 
fluence in  shaping  the  philosophic  and  higher  reli- 
gious thought  of  the  x)resent  age,  and  which  seem 
destined  to  retain  a x)ermanent  place  in  the  literature 
of  the  w^orld. 

Under  the  reign  of  Philip  III.  many  Jews  left 
Sixain  and  Portugal  to  seek  in  other  countries  free- 
dom from  the  persecutions  to  .which  they  were  sub- 
jected by  the  religious  bigotry  and  intolerance  of  the 
united  power  of  Church  and  State,  which  attempted 
by  rigorous  measures  to  compel  them  to ' relinquish 
their  ancient  faith  and  come  within  the  fold  of 

contemporary  and  friend  of  Spinoza,  inserted  by  Saisset  in  liis  (Euvres 
de  Spinoza,  tome  II.,  as  an  Appendix,  following  the  Life  by  Colerus. 


LIFE  AIS^D  WEITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


V 


Roman  Catholic  Christianity.  It  is  supposed  that 
among  those  Avho  sought  refuge  in  Holland  were  the 
parents  of  Spinoza,  who  settled  at  Amsterdam,  and 
there  Baruch  de  Siiinoza  was  born  on  the  24th  IS'o- 
V ember,  1632. 

Besides  being  thoroughly  educated  by  a learned 
Rabbin  in  the  Biblical  and  Talmudic  writings  and 
other  literature  of  the  Jews,  he  became  also  an  ac- 
complished Latin  and  Greek  scholar,  well  versed  in 
the  classics  and  ancient  systems  of  philosophy.  His 
acquirements  also  embraced  the  Mathematics,  Al- 
gebra, Physics,  Chemistry,  Optics,  and  indeed  seem 
to  have  extended  to  most  of  the  deiDartments  of 
science  and  philosophy  which  formed  the  subjects 
of  the  study  and  thought . of  the  most  advanced 
minds  of  his  own  times.  Even  at  an  early  age  he 
was  distinguished  for  his  great  capacities,  and 
having  been  strongly  impressed  by  a maxim  of 
Descartes — “that  nothing  ought  to  be  received  as 
truth  until  it  had  been  proved  by  good  and  solid 
reasons,”  he  seems  to  have  acted  upon  it,  and  was 
led  to  investigate  and  understand  for  himself  the 
grounds  upon  which  systems  of  religion  and  philo- 
sophy were  based.  As  a consequence,  the  teachings 
of  the  Rabbins  and  the  Schoolmen  were  only  ac- 
cepted by  him  in  so  far  as  they  seemed  to  be  con- 
sistent with  truth  and  capable  of  demonstration. 
With  such  an  intellectual  training  his  power  of 
thought  was  made  active  and  strengthened,  and  a 
high  moral  and  truly  religious  nature  developed, 


VI 


teanslatok’s  peeface. 


which  lifted  him  far  above  the  ordinary  level  of  man- 
kind and  fitted  him  not  only  to  become  a messenger 
and  teacher  of  truth,  but  inspired  him  with  a serene 
courage  to  bear  the  cross  which  has  so  often  awaited 
those  who  proclaimed  it. 

Unable  to  accept  the  teachings  of  the  Eabbins,  and 
unwilling  to  dissemble,  he  ceased  to  attend  the  syna- 
gogue. They  had  taken  great  pains  to  instruct  him, 
and  being  looked  upon  as  of  much  promise  they 
thought  that  his  falling  away  from  their  faith  and 
doctrines  might  have  a pernicious  influence  upon 
others,  and  no  etforts  were  spared  to  bring  him  back 
and  I’etain  him  within  the  fold.  To  this  end,  offers  of 
favor  and  advancement  and  a yearly  pension  of  1,000 
florins  are  said  to  have  been  made  to  him,  but  with- 
out avail ; and  in  1656,  at  the  age  of  twenty-four,  he 
was  formally  excommunicated  and  cast  out  from  the 
Jewish  communion, — a proceeding  not  uncommon 
among  religious  societies  of  other  faiths,  but  regarded 
in  those  and  earlier  times  as  an  act  of  far  more  fearful 
import  and  accompanied  by  more  solemn  ceremonies 
than  it  is  to-day.  All  Jews  Avere  forbidden  to  speak 
or  write  to  him,  or  to  do  him  any  service,  or  abide  un- 
der the  same  roof  AAuth  him,  or  approach  within  four 
cubits’  length  of  him,  or  to  read  anything  written  or 
dictated  by  him.  To  this  excommunication  Spinoza 
wrote  a reply  in  the  Spanish  language,"^  but  it  has 
either  been  lost  or  remains  inedited.  An  attempt 

* Saisset,  in  liis  Notice  BihliograpTiique,  gives  as  its  title  : '■‘Apologia 
para  justijicar  se  de  su  abdication  dc  la  sinagoga.'^ 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA,  vii 

to  take  his  life  was  made  soon  after  by  some  over- 
zealous  and  fanatical  Jew,  but  Spinoza,  fortunately 
turned  aside  the  knife  of  the  assassin,  which  only 
pierced  his  clothipg.  Subsequently,  the  chiefs  of  tlie 
synagogue  applied  to  the  civil  authorities  to  have 
him  expelled  from  the  city  as  an  impious  person,  tlius 
affording  another  instance,  if  it  were  needed,  that 
they  who  have  themselves  suffered  persecution  for 
opinion’s  sake  are  not  thereby  made  tolerant  of  the 
opinions  of  others.  The  magistrates,  probably  not 
linding  any  legal  authority  or  precedent  for  such 
action,  referred  the  matter  to  the  ministers  of  the 
churches,  who,  according  to  Lucas,  advised  compli- 
ance with  the  application,  whereupon  the  magistrates 
condemned  the  accused  to  an  exile  of  a few  months. 
Whether  this  were  so  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  Spinoza 
left  Amsterdam  not  long  after  his  excommunication 
and  took  lodgings  with  a Christian  family  near 
Auwerkerke,  a few  miles  from  the  city.  Here,  with- 
out other  means  of  subsistence  than  that  provided  by 
his  daily  labor,  he  gained  it  by  grinding  and  polish- 
ing lenses  for  telescopes  and  other  optical  instru- 
ments, an  art  which  if  not  previously  acquired  he 
learned  at  that  time,  and  became  so  skilful  in  it 
that  his  glasses  were  in  high  repute,  so  that  persons 
came  from  distant  places  to  buy  thern  at  Amsterdam, 
where  his  friends  sold  them  for  him. 

The  first  writer  of  the  gospel  story  of  the  tempta- 
tion in  the  wilderness  was  certainly  possessed  of  a 
lively  imagination,  but  divesting  the  narrative  of 


viii  TRANSLATOirS  TREFACE. 

Avliatever  is  merely  fabulous,  it  truly  symbolizes  the 
struggle  of  a sincere  and  virtuous  soul  to  be  faithful 
to  its  highest  intellectual  conceptions,  and  illustrates 
for  all  time  the  mental  conflict  which  takes  place 
when  it  is  brought  to  confront  long  established  be- 
liefs and  to  proclaim  a new  revelation  of  truth. 
The  proffered  ease,  and  often  the  riches,  the  power, 
and  the  glory  of  the  world  are  to  be  refused  and  x:)ut 
aside,  and  in  their  place  persecution,  contumely, 
and  a crown  of  thorns  accepted.  So  with  our  phil- 
osopher, when  the  day  of  trial  came  and  he  was 
called  upon  to  consider  and  choose  between  the 
allurements  of  riches,  and  glory,  and  the  pleasures 
of  the  world,  which  conformity  Avith  the  prevailing 
ox^inions  and  beliefs  might  be  supposed  to  offer  him, 
ou  the  one  hand,  if  he  Avould  but  repress  the  convic- 
tions of  his  understanding,  i.e.  if  he  Avould  cease  to 
worship  God  “in  sj)irit  and  in  truth,” — he  x^ref erred 
to  meet  excommunication  from  the  synagogue,  to  be 
cut  off  from  x^arents,  family,  and  race, — to  live  in 
X'>overty  among  strangers  and  encounter  obloquy  and 
rex:)roach,  rather  than  to  deny  the  truth  which  his 
understanding  revealed  to  him,  and  Avhich  brought 
him  to  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God.  XorAvas 
the  temptation  a light  one,  nor  x^nt  aside  without  a 
full  and  deliberate  consideration  of  all  that  it  in- 
volved. For  if  we  apxdy  to  this  of  his  life 

what  he  says  in  the  oxDening  of  his  Treatise  on  the 
Cultivation  of  the  Understanding^  we  may  there 
learn  that  it  was  only  after  liaAdng  questioned  his 


LIFE  A^D  WRITINGS  OF  SPIN^OZA. 


IX 


experience  as  to  the  ordinary  events  of  common  life, 
and  of  those  things  which  men  so  universally  desire 
and  strive  for  as  the  supreme  good,  and  having  con- 
cluded them  to  be  vain  and  futile,  that  he  at  last 
came  to  the  resolution  to  seek  if  there  existed  a real 
goocl^  which,  all  mere  worldly  desires  being  put 
aside,  could,  when  found  and  possessed,  alone  fill 
and  satisfy  the  whole  soul  and  give  it  supreme  and 
eternal  happiness.  His  words  are:*  say  that 
/ have  at  last  talcen  this  resolidion,  for  it  appeared 
to  me  at  first  view  to  be  unwise  to  give  ux)  things 
that  were  near  at  hand  and  certain,  in  order  to 
XDursue  that  which  was  uncertain.  For  I had  before 
my  eyes  the  advantages  one  acquires  through  wealth 
and  reputation,  and  it  was  necessary  to  abstain  from 
these  if  I would  seriously  occupy  myself  with  seek- 
ing something  else.”  . . “For  the  objects  which 

most  frequently  present  themselves  in  life,  and  in 
which  men,  if  we  may  judge  by  their  actions, 
jilace  supreme  hapx)iness,  may  be  reduced  to  three : 
wealth,  reputation,  and  pleasure.”  . . “It  was 

therefore  not  without  reason  that  I said  to  myself : 

* Dico,  me  tandem  constituisse : primo  enim  intuitu  inconsultum 
videbatur,  propter  rem  tunc  incertam  certa  amittere  velle.  Yidebam 
nimirum  commoda,  quse  ex  honore  ac  divitiis  acquiruntur,  et  quod  ab 
iis  quserendis  cogebar  abstinere,  si  seriam  rei  alii  novae  operam  dare 
vellem.”  . . . “Nam  quae  plerumque  in  vita  occurrunt,  et  apud 

homines,  ut  ex  eorum  operibus  colligere  licet,  tanquam  summum 
bonum  aestimantur,  ad  haec  tria  rediguntur  : divitias  scilicet,  Tionorem 
atque  libidinem.  . . . Yerum  non  absque  ratione  usus  sum  his 

verbis  : ?nodo  possim  serio  deliberare.  Nam  quamvis  haec  mente  adeo 
dare  perciperem,  non  poteram  tamen  ideo  omnem  avaritiara,  libidi- 
nem, atque  gloriam  deponere. — Tractatus  De  Intellectus  Emendatione. 


X 


TEAXSLATOK  S PEEFACE. 


Consider  this  matter  seriously ; for  altliongli  I 
had  a clear  perception  of  all  that  I have  said  (of 
tiie  vanity  and  futility  of  these  things),  still  I 
could  not  wholly  banish  from  my  soul  the  love 
of  wealth,  of  pleasure,  and  of  glory.” 

He  appears  to  have  spent  about  four  years  at  Au- 
werkerke,  supporting  himself  by  his  handicraft,  and 
at  the  same  time  diligently  pursuing  his  philosophi- 
cal studies  and  meditations,  occasionally  making 
short  visits  to  friends  at  Amsterdam.  In  1660  lie  re- 
moved to  Rhynsburg  near  Leyden,  and  while  resid- 
ing at  this  place  he  published  at  Amsterdam  in  1663 
his  first  work,*  the  Principles  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Descartes,  demonstrated  geometrically  ; — to  which 
was  appended  ^Metaphysical  Meditations.  In  af- 
fixing his  name  to  this  work  he  changed  it  from 
Baruch  to  Benedict,  to  indicate  his  separation  from 
Judaism.  This  publication  soon  gave  him  a reputa- 
tion which  extended  even  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
his  own  country. 

In  1664  he  removed  to  Yoorburg,  about  a league 
from  the  Hague,  where  he  remained  about  five  years  ; 
after  which  we  find  him  at  the  Hague,  at  which  place 
he  continued  to  reside  until  his  death. 

In  1670  he  published  his  celebrated  Trecdise  on 

*Renati  Des  Cartes  Principiorum  Philosophiae,  more  geometrico 
demonstrata.  Per  Benedictum  de  Spinoza.  Amstelodamensem.  Ac- 
cessemnt  ejusdem  Cogitata  Metaphysica,  in  quibus  difficiliores  quae 
tarn  in  parte  metaphysices  generali  quam  special!  occurmnt  quaestiones 
breviter  explicantur.  Amstelodami,  apud  Jobannem  Rieuwertz. 
1663. 


LIFE  WRITINGS  OF  SPIXOZA. 


XI 


Theology  and  Politics,-  a work  iu  wMcli  lie  ex- 
amined and  criticised  the  HebreAv  Scrijitiires,  and 
which  created  great  excitement,  especially^  amomr 
the  theologians,  some  .of  whom,  although  perhaps 
far  too  iinlearned  to  answer  it,  were  yet  too  bigoted 
to  allow  it  to  pass  without  the  most  unmeasured 
and  violent  denunciations  of  its  unknown  author. 
Theoretically  and  ostensibly,  a certain  degree  of  re- 
ligious freedom  existed  in  Holland : but  a liberal 
and  wise  political  constitution  could  not  in  those 
times  (nor  can  it  now)  wholly  eradicate  the  feeling 
of  hatred  and  dislike  engendered  in  the  minds  of 
men  who  had  been  taught  that  them  own  eternal 
salvation,  if  not  that  of  all  mankind,  depended 
upon  certain  beliefs, — to  doubt  or  deny  which  was 
something  so  execrable  as  to  be  at  least  worthy  of 
severe  reprobation,  if  not  of  social  ostracism. 

To  expose  one's  self  unnecessarily  to  this  naturally 
earnest,  sincere,  and  zealous,  but  misguided  feeling 
and  prejudice,  was  not  desirable.  Probably  for  this 
reason  the  work  appeared  without  the  name  of  its 
author,  and  purported  to  be  i^rinted  at  Hamburg, 
whereas  it  was  printed  at  Amsterdam.  At  the  in- 
stance of  theologians  the  book  was  interdicted,  but, 

* Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus.  Continens  dissertationes  aliquot, 
quibus  ostenditur  libertatem  philosophandi  non  tantum  salva  pietate 
et  reipublicae  pace  posse  concedi,  sed  eandem  nisi  cum  pace  reipublicte 
ipsaque  pietate  tolli  non  posse.  “Per  hoc  cognoscimus  quod  in  Deo 
manemus,  et  Deus  manet  in  nobis,  quod  de  Spiritu  suo  dedit  nobis. 
Johann.  Epist.  I.,  c.  I Y.,  vers.  13.”  Hamb.  Apud  Henri  Kunrath. 
1670. 


Xll 


TRAXSLATOll’s  PREFACE. 


nevertheless,  in  1673  it  ^Yas  again  twice  republished 
at  Amsterdam,  and  once  at  Leyden,  under  changed 
and  different  titles ; and,  yet  again,  in  1674,  without 
any  assigned  place  of  imhlication.  In  1678  a French 
translation  of  it  was  also  published  in  Holland,  which 
Saisset  speaks  of  as  being  very  incorrect. 

This  learned  and  able  Avork  has  gained  for  Spinoza 
the  title  of  ‘‘Father  of  Biblical  Criticism.”  His  ob- 
ject in  writing  it  is  set  forth  in  a letter  to  Henri  Old- 
enburg, at  London,  in  1665,  an  extract  from  AAdiich, 
taken  from  the  Appendix  to  the  published  Avorks  of 
Robert  Boyle,  appears  among  the  correspondence  of 
Spinoza  translated  by  Hr.  Willis  and  recently  pub- 
lished in  London, — Avherein  Spinoza  AAuites  : “lam 
noAv  engaged  in  the  composition  of  my  treatise  on  the 
Scriptures,  moved  to  undertake  the  Avork  ; 1st, — By 
the  prejudices  of  theologians,  AAdiich  I feel  satisfied 
are  the  grand  obstacles  to  the  general  study  of  phi- 
losophy. These  prejudices  I therefore  expose,  and 
do  AALat  I can  to  lessen  their  influence  on  the  minds 
of  people  accessible  to  reason.  2nd, — By  my  desire 
.to  disabuse  the  world  of  the  false  estimate  formed  of 
me  AAdien  I am  charged  Avith  atheism.  3rd, — By  the 
Avish  I have  to  assert  our  title  to  free  philosophical 
discussion,  and  to  say  oi^enly  Avhat  AA’e  think.  This  I 
maintain  in  every  possible  A\my,  for  here  it  is  too 
much  interfered  AAuth  by  the  authorit}"  and  abusive- 
ness of  the  Amlgar.” 

AVe  have  already  referred  to  the  excitement  created 
among  theologians  by  this  Avork  on  its  appearance. 


LIFE  AISD  WKITIXGS  OF  SPIXOZA.  xiii 

As  it  was  the  habit  of  Spinoza  to  act  with  great  pru- 
dence and  caution,  it  may  be  safely  assumed  that  his 
friend  De  Witt,  the  Grand  Pensionary  of  Holland, 
and  others  in  authority  in  the  State  who  knew  and 
conversed  with  him,  had  been  made  acquainted  with 
its  contents,  and  that  he  felt  assured  of  their  favor- 
able opinion  and  support  before  he  ventured  on  its 
publication  ; for  he  takes  occasion  to  say  with  great 
confidence  at  the  end  of  his  preface,  and  repeats  it 
at  the  close  of  the  work, — that  he  has  written  nothing 
that  he  would  not  most  willingly  submit  to  the  exa- 
mination and  judgment  of  the  highest  authorities  of 
his  country  ; but  he  adds  : ‘‘  Should  aught  however 
that  I have  said  be  held  to  contravene  the  laws  of  the 
State,  or  to  be  opposed  to  the  common  good,  I would 
have  it  impugned  and  rectified  ; for  I know  that  I 
am  man  and  liable  to  err  ; but  I have  taken  great 
pains  not  to  err,  and  have  been  especially  solicitous 
so  to  express  myself  as  that  all  I have  written  should 
be  found  in  harmony  with  the  laws  of  my  country^ 
and  with  piety  and  good  manners.”^ 

Man  may  think  freely,  but  it  has  not  always  and 
everywhere  been  the  case  that  he  could  utter  his- 
thoughts  with  equal  freedom.  There  has  been  a 
penalty.  Socrates  paid  it  by  drinking  hemlock. 
Jesus  was  crucified.  A volume  would  not  suffice  to 
recite  individual  penalties  in  their  various  forms.  In 
Sifinoza’ s own  century  Bruno  and  Yanini  had  been 


* English  Trans.  Tr.  Theol.-Pol.  1862,  p.  30. 


XIV 


translator's  preface. 


burned,  and  Galilei  to  escax)e  torture  had  been 
forced  by  the  Church  to  make  a vain  and  impossible 
abjuration  of  the  truth  that  the  earth  moved  around 
the  sun,  and  not  the  sun  around  the  earth.  Even  in 
free  Holland  the  incidents  of  Spinoza’s  life  show  how 
necessary  was  his  motto  Caide^'’^  and  that  a philoso- 
plier  could  not  utter  his  thoughts  without  becoming 
an  object  of  suspicion,  coldness,  abuse,  and  defama- 
tion on  the  part  of  many  of  his  fellow-citizens. 

Such  of  his  correspondence  between  the  years  1661 
and  1676  as  has  been  preserved,  affords  some  in- 
sight as  to  who  were  his  friends  and  acquaintances. 
Among  these  were  the  Doctors  Louis  Meyer,  Bresser, 
and  Schaller,  all  physicians  of  Amsterdam.  Meyer 
wrote  the  preface  to  his  Principia  Philosophic  Des 
Cartes.  Dr.  Henri  Oldenburg,  a physician  of  Bre- 
men, who  sought  the  acquaintance  of  Spinoza  at 
Rhynsburg,  and  was  subsequently  the  Envoy  from 
Lower  Saxony  to  England,  where  he  became  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  Royal  Society  of  London,  one  of 
its  secretaries,  and  published  its  Philosophical  Trans- 
actions. He  corresponded  with  Spinoza  throughout 
the  whole  of  the  period  referred  to  above,  and 
through  him  communications  passed  between  Robert 
Boyle  and  Spinoza.  Simon  de  Yries,  a gentleman  of 
fortune,  a devoted  friend,  ardent  admirer,  and  stu- 
dent of  Spinoza’s  philosophy.  Jarig  Jellis,  a retired 
merchant,  Peter  Balling,  and  Rieuwertz  the  printer, — 
these  three  were  Christians  of  the  sect  of  Mennonites. 
Jellis  wrote  the  preface  to  the  Opera  Posthuma  in 


LIFE  AXD  WPvITIXGS  OF  SPIXOZA. 


XV 


Dutch,  wliicli  was  translated  into  Latin  by  Meyer. 
Christian  Hnygliens,  the  celebrated  scientist,  matlie- 
matician  and  astronomer,  the  discoverer  of  Saturn's 
ring.  With  these  and  many  otlier  persons  of  cul- 
ture and  consideration  the  excommunicated  Jew  and 
philosopher  had  friendly  intercourse.  Leibnitz  had 
corresponded  with  him  on  a question  of  optics, 
sought  his  acquaintance,  visited,  and  had  long  con- 
versations with  him.  In  1673  the  Prince  Charles 
Louis,  Elector  Palatine,  offered  Spinoza  the  chair  of 
Philosophy  in  the  University  at  Heidelberg,  but  he 
declined  the  honorable  offer.  He  also  possessed  the 
friendship  of  the  statesman  and  patriot  John  De 
Witt,  Grand  Pensionary  of  Holland,  and  of  others 
occupying  high  positions  in  the  civil  and  military 
service  of  the  State,  and  who  often  visited  him  in  his 
humble  lodgings  and  took  delight  in  his  conversation. 

He  had  now  become  one  of  the  celebrities  of  the  in- 
tellectual world  of  Europe,  for  his  name  and  fame 
had  extended  wherever  learning  and  philosophy  were 
sought  and  honored.  But  notwithstanding  this,  the 
manner  of  living  and  the  character  of  the  great  phi- 
losopher remained  unchanged,  and  the  high  resolve 
with  which  in  his  earlier  days  he  had  deliberately 
put  aside  whatever  desires  he  may  have  had  for 
riches,  worldly  honors,  and  pleasures,  and  given 
himself  up  wholly  to  the  x)ursuit  of  that  knowledge 
which  alone  can  truly  lead  to  a wise  understanding 
and  love  of  God,  was  faithfully  adhered  to  until  the 
last  moment  of  his  life. 


XVI 


teaxslator’s  peeface. 


From  liis  biograpliy  written  by  the  Eev.  Mr.  Gole- 
ms, we  learn  that  when  lie  first  went  to  live  at  tlie 
Hague  lie  boarded  at  a lionse  on  tlie  Yeerkay,  wliere 
lie  had  a single  back  room  np  two  fiiglits  of  stairs,  in 
which  he  worked  at  his  glasses,  studied,  and  slept, 
and  where  his  meals  were  often  brought  to  him.  But 
finding  this  too  exjiensive  for  his  slender  means,  he 
hired  a room  on  the  Paviloengracht,  in  the  house 
of  a painter  by  the  name  of  Van  der  Sjiyck,  where 
he  furnished  himself  with  ‘Yneat  and  drink,”  livim>- 
in  a most  frugal  and  abstemious  manner,^  absorbed 
in  his  studies  and  meditations,  and  often  not  going 
out  of  the  house  for  several  days  together.  Many 
offers  of  pecuniary  assistance  were  made  to  Spinoza 
by  his  friends,  who  were  extremely  desirous  to  re- 


* From  an  old  English  translation  of  the  Life  by  Colerus,  I ex- 
tract the  following  ; “ He  would  live  a whole  day  upon  a milk  soup 
done  with  butter,  which  amounted  to  three  pence,  and  upon  a pot  of 
beer  of  three  half-pence.  Another  day  he  would  eat  nothing  but 
gruel  done  with  raisins,  and  that  dish  did  cost  him  four  pence  half- 
penny. There  are  but  two  half-pints  of  wine  at  most  for  one  month  to 
be  found  amongst  these  reckonings,  and  though  he  was  often  invited  to 
eat  with  his  friends,  he  chose  rather  to  live  upon  what  he  had  at  home, 
though  it  were  never  so  little,  than  to  sit  down  at  a good  table  at  the 
expense  of  another  man.  He  was  very  careful  that  his  expenses  should 
not  exceed  his  income,  and  he  would  say  sometimes  to  the  people  of 
the  house  that  he  was  like  a serpent  with  its  tail  in  its  mouth,  to  denote 
that  he  had  nothing  left  at  the  year’s  end  ; and  added  that  he  designed 
to  lay  up  no  more  money  than  would  be  necessary  to  bury  him 
decently,  and  that  as  he  had  got  nothing  from  his  parents,  so  his 
heirs  and  relations  should  not  expect  to  get  much  by  his  death.” — T/te 
Life  of  Benedict  de  Spinoza.  Written  hy  John  Colerus,  Minister  of  the 
Lutheran  Church  at  the  Hague.  Done  out  of  French.  London : 
Printed  hy  D.  L.  and  sold  hy  Benj.  Bragg  at  the  Raven  in  Pater  Noster 
Row.  1706. 


LIFE  ATs^D  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XYll 


lieve  him  from  the  necessity  of  working  at  his  glasses 
for  support ; and  on  one  occasion  Simon  de  Tries 
came  from  Amsterdam  and  put  in  his  hand  a present 
of  2,000  tiorins,  bat  Sihnoza  declined  to  accept  it, 
npon  the  plea  that  he  wanted  nothing,  and  if  he 
received  so  mncli  money  it  might  divert  him  from  his 
studies  and  occupations.  Upon  the  death  of  his 
father  he  was  entitled  by  law  to  his  share  of  the 
estate,  but  opposition  was  made  by  his  relatives  from 
whom  he  had  been  separated  by  his  excommunica- 
tion. Having  established  his  right  to  receive  it,  he 
then  voluntarily  relinquished  his  share  to  his  sisters, 
reserving  to  himself  only  a bed  and  its  furniture. 
There  is  good  reason,  however,  to  suppose  that 
during  the  last  tv/o  or  three  years  of  his  life  he  was, 
to  a great  extent  at  least,  relieved  from  the  neces- 
sity of  working  at  his  glasses  ; for  his  friend  the 
Grand  Pensionaiy  De  Witt,  who  had  often  obtained 
from  him  information  on  mathematical  subjects,  and 
consulted  with  him  on  important  matters  of  State,  as 
a testimonial  of  his  regard  and  as  a recompense  for  his- 
services,  had  conferred  upon  him  by  an  instrument 
in  writing  a pension  of  200  florins,  or  about  80  dollars. 
After  the  death  of  De  Witt  his  heirs  raised  some  ob- 
jections to  continuing  it,  whereupon  Spinoza,  with 
great  tranquillity,  at  once  surrendered  the  waiting  to 
them  and  relinquished  the  pension.  His  disinter- 
ested action  seems  to  have  touched  them,  for  they 
came  to  him  afterwards  and  most  joyfully  ten- 
dered wdiat  they  had  at  first  refused.  In  addition 


translator’s  preface. 


xviii 

to  this,  liis  loving  friend  Simon  de  Vries,  a man  of 
wealth,  withont  wife  or  children,  exj)ecting  soon  to 
die,  desired  to  leave  all  his  property  to  Spinoza,  and 
beins:  about  to  make  his  will  informed  him  of  his 
intention.  But  Spinoza  would  not  listen  to  the  pro- 
posal, and  as  De  Vries  had  a brother  living  at  Schie- 
dam he  urged  that  he  ought  to  leave  it  to  him,  and 
so  prevailed  by  his  arguments  that  his  advice  was 
followed  ; but,  nevertheless,  in  drawing  the  will  he 
made  it  a charge  upon  the  estate  that  his  brother 
should  pay  to  Spinoza  a yearly  pension  of  500 
tiorins.  After  his  death  his  brother  was  anxious  to 
fulfil  the  charge,  but  Spinoza  resolutely  refused  to 
receive  so  large  a sum,  saying  that  it  was  more  than 
he  had  need  of,  and  could  only  be  prevailed  upon  to 
accept  300  florins.  These  two  j^ensions,  amounting 
together  to  about  200  dollars,  were  no  doubt  the 
chief  sources  of  the  philosopher’s  support  during  the 
last  two  or  three  years  of  his  life. 

In  his  solitary  room  in  the  house  at  the  Hague 
he  lived  quietly,  with  a single  exception,  amid  all 
the  turmoil  of  domestic  civil  strife  and  foreign  war ; 
for  during  this  period  (1670-6)  the  country,  besides 
being  disturbed  by  the  ambition  of  William,  Prince 
of  Orange,  was  engaged  in  a naval  war  with  Eng- 
land, and  also  invaded  by  the  armies  of  Louis 
XIV.  of  France.  In  1672,  De  Witt,  owing  to  the 
schemes  of  his  rival  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  the 
■defeat  of  the  Dutch  fleets  by  the  English,  lost  the 
public  favor  and  confidence  and  was  confined  in 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XIX 


prison  at  the  Hague,  from  which  he  and  his  bro- 
ther Cornelius  were  torn  by  a blind  and  infuriated 
mob  and  massacred  in  the  street.  Xot  long  after 
this  occurrence,  the  Prince  of  Conde,  who  with  a 
French  army  had  taken  possession  of  Utrecht,  being 
desirous  of  seeing  and  conversing  with  the  philoso- 
pher, invited  him  to  make  a visit,  and  sent  him 
a passport.  After  consulting  with  friends  and 
some  of  the  high  officers  of  State,  Spinoza  went  to 
Utrecht.  Upon  his  return  a rumor  of  his  visit  to 
the  invaders  of  the  country  being  spread  among 
the  people,  public  suspicion  was  directed  towards 
him,  and  it  was  feared  that  the  house  in  which  lie 
lodged  would  be  assailed  by  the  populace.  His 
landlord  was  greatly  alarmed,  but  Spinoza  said  to 
him, — ‘‘Fear  nothing  upon  my  account,  for  I can 
easily  justify  myself.  There  are  people  enough, 
and  even  some  of  the  most  considerable  persons 
of  the  State,  who  knoAv  veiy  well  what  put  me  on 
that  journey.  But  however,  as  soon  as  the  mob 
make  the  least  noise  at  yonr  door,  I will  go  down 
to  them,  though  they  were  to  treat  me  as  they 
treated  the  poor  Messieurs  He  Witt.  I am  a good 
republican,  and  I always  aimed  at  the  ’glory  and 
welfare  of  the  State.”  Happily,  the  excitement 
subsided,  and  the  philosopher  was  left  unmo- 
lested. 

His  biographer,  the  minister  Golems,  seems  to 
have  made  minute  inquiries  concerning  him  from 
the  families  in  whose  houses  he  had  lived  at  the 


XX 


tuaxslatok’ s pkeface. 


Hague,  as  well  as  from  many  others  wlio  had  been 
})ersonally  acquainted  w ith  him  ; and  he  relates  of 
liim  that  he  was  very  affable,  courteous,  and  oblig- 
ing in  his  manners,  and  j)leasant  and  agreeable  in 
liis  conversation.  He  had  all  the  i:)assions  com- 
pletely under  control,  and  never  exhibited  anger 
or  discontent,  or  immoderate  grief  or  merriment, 
but  w’as  even-tempered,  gentle,  and  kind,  ahvays 
sympathizing  wdtli  the  sick  and  afflicted,  and  ex- 
horting them  to  bear  patiently  those  evils  wdiich 
fell  to  their  lot.  He  took  an  interest  in  the  chil- 
dren of  the  house  in  wdiich  he  lived,  amused  and 
instructed  them  Avith  a microscope,  and  often  coun- 
selled them  to  go  regularly  to  church,  and  taught 
them  to  be  dutiful  and  obedient  to  their  pa- 
I'ents.  From  the  time  of  his  separation  from 
Judaism  he  ahvays  lived  Avith  Christian  families. 
Colerus  tells  us  that  he  sometimes  attended  the 
Lutheran  Church,  praised  the  discourses  of  Dr. 
Cordes,  the  predecessor  of  Colerus,  and  counselled 
his  landlord  and  the  people  of  the  house  not  to 
miss  any  sermon  of  so  excellent  a preacher.  Cole- 
rus also  relates  that  his  landlady  asked  him  one 
day  “AAdiether  he  believed  that  she  could  be  saved 
in  the  religion  she  professed,”  and  he  ansAA^ered 
her:  “Your  religion  is  a good  one;  you  need  not 
look  for  another,  nor  doubt  that  you  may  be  saved 
in  it,  provided  that  wdiilst  you  devote  yourself  to 
piety  you  live  at  the  same  time  a i^eaceable  and 
quiet  life.”  In  making  such  a reply  AA^e  may  AA^ell 


LIFE  AXD  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XXI 


believe  that  Si^inoza  had  due  regard  to  the  con- 
dition and  state  of  mind  of  the  inquirer. 

As  early  as  1661  the  mind  of  Spinoza  had  l)een  oc- 
cupied with  those  meditations  which  assumed  a body 
and  form  in  his  great  work,  the  ^‘Ethica.”  It  had 
been  the  subject  of  conversation  and  discussion  with 
his  friends,  among  some  of  whom  it  is  quite  x)robable 
that  several  of  its  parts  had  from  time  to  time  been 
circulated  and  read  in  manuscript.  It  had  been  most 
carefully  studied  and  had  undergone  great  elabora- 
tion, and  each  one  of  its  propositions  and  demonstra- 
tions had  been  made  perfectly  harmonious  witli 
every  other,  so  that  when  finally  compacted  together 
as  a whole  it  presented  a body  of  logic  which,  grant- 
ing its  fun^amenlal  premise  of  God,  as  Substance,  is 
almost  without  flaw,  and  has  thus  far  maintained  it- 
self against  the  assaults  of  all  its  assailants. 

Though  repeatedly  urged  to  send  it  to  press, 
Spinoza  with  his  proverbial  caution  had  for  years 
lield  it  back.  The  storm  of  obloquy  and  reproach, 
mingled  Avith  much  ignorant  criticism,  Avhich  burst 
out  uj)on  the  first  appearance  of  the  Tractatus  Theo- 
logico-Politicus,  had  in  a measure  subsided,  and  it 
was  now  widely  read  and  appreciated  by  the  learned; 
but  its  first  reception  showed  what  might  be  expected 
if  the  Ethica  should  be  put  in  the  hands  of  readers 
whose  minds  were  not  prepared  to  examine  and  con- 
sider it  fairly.  In  July  1675  he  seems  to  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  to  give  it  to  the  world,  and  left  the 
Hague  to  put  it  to  press  at  Amsterdam.  But  its 


XXll 


TRAXSLATOIl’  S PREFACE. 


publication  was  destined  to  be  still  further  delayed, 
and  we  cannot  do  better  than  state  the  reasons  as- 
signed for  it  by  himself  in  a letter ""  to  Oldenburg,  at 
London.  “At  the  moment  of  receiving  your  letter 
of  22nd  July  I was  setting  out  for  Amsterdam  with 
a view  to  putting  to  press  the  work  about  which  I 
wrote  to  you.  AYhilst  there,  however,  making  my  ar- 
rangements, a rumor  got  spread  abroad  that  a book 
of  mine  upon  God  was  soon  to  aj^pear,  in  which  I en- 
deavored to  prove  that  there  was  no  God.  This  re- 
port I regret  to  add,  was  by  many  received  as  true. 
Certain  theologians  (who  probably  were  themselves 
the  authors  of  the  rumor)  took  occasion  upon  this  to 
lodge  a complaint  against  me  with  the  Prince  and 
Magistracy  ; and  the  silly  Cartesians,  in  order  to  free 
themselves  from  every  suspicion  of  favoiing  my 
views,  sat  about  abusing  my  writings  and  conclu- 
sions, and  bringing  me  into  evil  odor,  a course,  in- 
deed, which  they  still  continue  to  follow.  Having 
received  a hint  of  this  state  of  things  from  some 
trustworthy  friends,  who  assured  me,  further,  that 
the  theologians  were  everywhere  lying  in  wait  for 
me,  I determined  To  olf  my  contemplated  pub- 
lication until  such  time  as  I should  see  what  turn 
affairs  might  take,  and  as  matters  seem  every  day 
to  go  from  bad  to  worse,  I am  not  yet  resolved  as  to 
what  I shall  do.” 

The  book  was  not  to  see  the  light  during  his  life- 

Letter  XIX.  as  translated  by  Willis  in  his  Life,  Correspondence 
and  Ethics  of  Spinoza,  p.  253. 


LIFE  AXD  WRITIXGS  OF  SPIXOZA.  xxiii 

time.  His  liealtli  was  failing,  and  on  tlie  21st  Feb- 
ruary 1677  he  died,  and  on  the  25th  his  body  was 
buried  at  the  new  church  on  the  Spuy,  the  funeral 
being  attended  by  a large  concourse  of  friends  and 
neighbors,  and  many  illustrious  persons.^  Thus 
ended  the  life  of  a great  philosopher,  who  knew,  and 
loved,  and  worshipped  God  in  “ spirit  and  in  truth.” 

His  landlord.  Van  der  Spyck,  faithfully  carrying- 
out  instructions,  sealed  up  Si^inoza’s  writing-desk 
which  contained  the  manuscript  of  the  Ethica  and 
several  other  unpublished  works,  together  with  some 
of  his  correspondence,  and  sent  it  at  once  by  packet 
boat  to  Joliann  Hieuwertz,  the  printer,  at  Amsterdam. 

These  works,  edited  by  Dr.  Louis  Meyer  and  Jarig 
Jellis,  with  a preface  prepared  by  them,  were  j)ub- 
lished  the  same  year  (1677)  in  one  volume,  under  the 
title : B.  n S.  Opera  Postlmma.  Quorum  series 
Frcefationem  exliihetur.  The  names  of  editors,  prin- 
ter, and  place  of  publication  were  omitted.  Its  con- 
tents t were  (1)  Ethics  ; (2)  A Treatise  on  Politics  ; 


* While  preparing  this  preface  I have  read  a newspaper  paragraph 
which  I copy  here  : A committee  has  been  formed  at  the  Hague  for 
tlie  purpose  of  organizing  a movement  to  erect  a statue  in  that  city  to 
Spinoza,  the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of  whose  death  will  occur  next 
March  (new  style).  The  president  is  Dr.  M.  F.  A.  G.  Campbell,  and 
the  treasurer  Mr.  A.  W.  Jacobson,  both  of  the  Hague.  Associate 
committees  have  been  formed  in  other  countries.  Among  the  mem- 
bers of  the  English  committee  are  Professors  Bain,  Huxley,  Jowett, 
Max  Muller,  Tyndall,  Principal  Tulloch,  Messrs.  G.  H.  Lewes  and 
Herbert  Spencer. 

t I.  Ethica.  More  Geometrico  demonstrata.  II.  Politica.  III. 
De  Emendatione  Intellectus.  IV.  Epistolae,  et  ad  eas  Responsiones. 
V.  Compendium  Grammatices  Lingute  Hebrseae. 


XXIV 


traxslatoe’s  preface. 


(3)  A Treatise  on  tlie  Cultivation  of  the  Under- 
standing ; (4)  Correspondence  ; (o)  A Compendinni 
of  Hebrew  Grammar. 

Seldom  has  tliere  issued  from  the  press  a volume 
fraught  with  greater  interest  to  the  thoughtful.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  speak  of  the  reception  it  met  with. 
If  its  influence  was  slow,  still  it  worked  like  leaven. 
Among  the  intellectual  in  Europe,  especially  in 
Germany,  it  fecundated  philosophic  and  religious 
thought. 

A century  later  the  teachings  of  the  Ethics  had 
found  a lodgment,  in  whole  or  in  part,  in  the  minds 
of  Lessing,  Jacobi,  Herder,  Goethe,  Fichte,  Schel- 
ling,  Schiller,  Schleiermacher,  Hegel,  Feuerbach, 
Auerbach,  and  a host  of  others,  philosophers,  di- 
vines, poets,  essayists,  novelists,  through  whose 
writings  its  influence  has  been  widely  diffused,  en- 
lightening and  enlarging  the  understanding,  and 
modifying,  rationalizing,  and  exalting  religion  and 
philosophy. 

Spinoza  was  a truly  religions  philosopher,  a pow- 
erful if  not  an  invincible  logician,  and  well  versed  in 
theology  and  politics.  In  his  metaphysics  he  never 
loses  himself  or  his  reader.  His  feet  are  afways 
on  terra  flrma — his  head  never  swims  in  the  clouds. 
The  form  of  the  Ethica,  which  proceeds  by  a series 
of  i^ropositions  and  demonstrations  after  the  method 
pursued  by  geometricians,  excludes  whatever  is  not 
fairly  susceptible  of  demonstration,  and  thus  raises 
an  effectual  barrier  against  mere  speculation  or  the 


LIFE  A^B  WEITIIIGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XXV 


figments  of  tlie  imagination, — and  herein,  perhaps, 
lies  one  of  the  secrets  of  its  power  and  endurance. 

Four  Latin  editions  of  Spinoza’s  works  have  been 
iniblished  in  Germany  : that  of  Panins,  at  Jena, 
1802-3  ; of  Gfroerer,  at  Stuttgart,  1830  ; of  Brnder, 
at  Leipsic,  3 vols.,  1843-4-6;  and  of  Seidel  {lie^iafi 
des  Cartes  et  Benedlctl  de  Bpiiioza)^  Leipsic,  1843, 
— besides  several  translations. 

In  1844  Emile  Saisset  published  at  Paris  the  first 
French  translation,  folloAved,  in  1861,  by  a new  and 
revised  edition"-  in  three  volumes,  the  first  of  Avhich 
was  devoted  to  an  Introduction,  Criticism,  and  re- 
futation of  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza.  In  his  Avanf- 
Fropos^  referring  to  the  Introduction  to  his  first 
edition,  published  sixteen  years  before,  Saisset  says 
that  ‘Giis  purpose  at  that  time  Avas  not  to  refute 
Spinoza,  but  only  to  make  his  Avritings  knoAvn,  and 
that  he  had  then  deferred  until  another  time  the 
trouble  and  the  peril  of  a refutation  ; but  that  if  he 
had  so  long  delayed  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise 
it  assuredly  Avas  not  for  Avant  of  having  thought  of 
it,  for  from  the  commencement  of  his  career  he 
could  say  that  Spinoza  and  Pantheism  had  been 
his  most  constant  x>re-occupation,  and  that  alAAmys 
and  on  all  occasions  he  had  signalized  its  progress 
and  proclaimed  the  urgent  necessity  of  combating 
it.  Indeed  he  had  done  this  so  constantly  that  he 

* (Euvres  de  Spinoza,  traduites  par  Emile  Saisset,  Professeur  d’His- 
toire  de  la  Pliilosophie,  et  cet.  Avec  une  Introduction  Critique. 
Nouvelle  edition.  Paris,  1861. 


XXVI 


translator's  preface. 


had  been  laiigliingdy  accused  of  troubling  him  self  tco 
much  about  Spinoza,  and  of  being  subject  to  that 
optical  illusion  by  which  objects  are  magnified  when 
looked  at  too  long  and  fixedly.”  He  concludes  : I 
wish  with  all  my  heart  that  it  were  so,  and  that 
Pantheism  only  existed  in  my  imagination  ; but 
perhaps  tlie  placid  observers  who  think  me  too 
much  alarmed  by  it,  are  like  those  wise  persons 
who  when  there  is  a great  conflagration  do  not  fail 
to  say, — it  is  nothing — it  is  only  a flash,  a sudden 
blaze  {un  feu  de  imille)  which  will  soon  go  out  of 
itself, — and  then  they  retire  into  their  houses,  whilst 
others  run  to  the  Are.” 

Whatever  the  effect  of  his  refutation,  it  is  certain 
that  his  translation,  which  is  a very  good  and  read- 
able one,  has  resulted  in  making  Sj)inoza  more 
widely  known  both  in  France  and  England. 

In  his  Notice  Bihliograpliique^  he  mentions  two 
works  of  Spinoza  which  had  been  lost  or  destroyed, 
— (1)  A translation  of  the  Pentateuch  from  the  He- 
brew into  the  Hutch  language.  (2)  A Treatise  on  the 
RainboAv.  This  last,  however  {tractatuluin  de  Iride)^ 
has  been  recovered  and  published  by  Hr.  J.  van 
Vloten,  at  Amsterdam,  1862.  There  has  also  been 
discovered,  in  the  Hutch  language,*  another  AAuiting 
of  Spinoza,  entitled  Korte  Y erliandeling  tan  God, 

*“■  Saisset  says  the  Ethica  was  first  written  in  Dutch,  and  afterwards 
put  into  Latin  (II  parait  que  Spinoza  avait  d’abord  ecrit  I’Ethique  en 
liollandais  ; il  la  mit  ensuite  en  latin).  If  this  is  only  a supposition,  it 
may  have  arisen  from  the  “ van  God,  den  MenscW'''  having  been  circu- 
lated in  Dutch. 


LIFE  AXD  IVPvITIXaS  OF  SPIXOZA. 


XXVll 


den  Mensch^  en  dezelfs  Welstand  (On  God,  and  on 
Man  and  liis  well-being),  wliicli  has  been  published 
by  Ed.  Boehmer,  at  Halle,  1852,  in  Latin,  under  the 
title  of  Tractatus  de  Deo  et  liomine  ej usque  feli- 
citate. Ueberweg,  in  his  History  of  Philosophy, 
says  tliis  treatise  was  written  before  1661,  and  x^er- 
hax)s  as  early  as  1655,  and  that  it  is  a sketch  of 
the  sj^stem  and  an  evident  forerunner  and  herald 
of  the  Ethics. 

In  England,  an  anonymons  translation  of  the  Trac- 
tatns  Theologico-Politicns  appeared  in  1689.  Another 
English  translation  of  the  same  work,  also  anon}'- 
inons,  was  x:)nblished  in  1862.'^'  This  was  followed  in 
1870  by  a very  able  translation  of  the  Ethicat  and 
Correspondence,  prefaced  by  a General  Introduction 
and  a comprehensive  and  interesting  statement  of 
Spinoza’ s life  and  relations  with  his  friends  and  cor- 
respondents, and  of  the  influence  of  his  writings  in 
Germany.  This  seems  to  have  been  the  first  aj^pear- 
ance  of  the  Ethica  in  English. 

Since  Spinoza’s  day  many  men  have  learned  to  tol-' 
erate  differences  of  opinion.  The  voice  of  vulgar  de- 
traction is  therefore  now  seldom  raised  against  liim. 

* Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus : A critical  inquiry  into  the  his- 
tory, purpose,  and  authenticity  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  ; with  the 
right  to  Free  thought  and  Free  discussion  asserted,  and  shown  to  he 
not  only  consistent  but  necessarily  bound  up  with  true  Piety  and  Good 
Government.  By  Benedict  de  Spinoza.  “Hereby  know  we  that  we 
dwell  in  God,  and  God  in  us,  because  he  hath  given  us  of  his  Spirit. 
1 John  V.  13.”  London  : Triibner  & Co.  1862. 

f Benedict  de  Spinoza  ; His  Life,  Correspondence,  and  Ethics ; b 


R.  Willis,  M.D.  “And  ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall 
make  you  free.  John  viii.  32.”  London  : Triibner  & Co.  1870. 


translator’s  preface. 


xxviii 

The  educated  who  do  not  accept  his  doctrines 
liave  at  least  learned  to  respect  the  man.  The  sim- 
plicity, dignity,  and  trutlif illness  of  his  character; 
the  purity  of  his  life,  his  noble  sentiments  and  just 
judgments;  his  deep  sense  of  religion  and  pie  t}^ ; 
his  all-pervading  love  of  God,  and  his  large  love  of 
man, — a love  not  fomented  by  the  imagination,  but 
springing  from  the  understanding — an  unselfish  love, 
that  looked  for  no  reward  that  Avas  not  found  in 
virtue, — these  have  subdued  the  hate  Avith  AAdiich  so 
many  prejudiced  minds  Avere  AA^ont  to  regard  his 
name,  and  noAv  everyAAdiere  throughout  Protestant 
EurojAe  the  most  learned,  able,  and  sincere  opponents 
of  his  doctrines  enter  into  calm  discussion  of  them, 
Avith  esteem  for  his  character,  and  a full  knoAAdedge 
that  they  have  to  deal  AAuth  a grand  intellect  and  a 
deep  and  earnest  thinker.  It  is  only  Rome  that^ 
launches  anathemas'^  against  his  teachings,  as  Avell  as 

* Canon  I. — 3.  If  any  one  shall  say  that  the  substance  and  essence 
of  God  and  of  all  things  is  one  and  the  same  : let  him  be  anathema. 

4.  If  any  one  shall  say  that  finite  things,  both  corporeal  and  spirit- 
ual, have  emanated  from  the  divine  substance  ; or  that  the  divine 
essence  by  the  manifestation  and  evolution  of  itself  becomes  all 
things  ; or,  lastly,  that  God  is  universal  or  indefinite  being,  which  by 
determining  itself  constitutes  the  universality  of  things,  distinct  accord- 
ing to  genera,  species,  and  individuals  : let  him  be  anathema. 

5.  If  any  one  confess  not  that  the  world,  and  all  things  which  are 
contained  in  it,  both  spiritual  and  material,  have  been,  in  their  whole 
substance,  produced  by  God  out  of  nothing ; or  shall  say  that  God 

'created,  not  by  his  will,  free  from  all  necessity,  but  by  a necessity 
equal  to  the  necessity  whereby  he  loves  himself  ; or  shall  deny  that 
the  world  was  made  for  the  glory  of  God  ; let  him  be  anathema. 

Canon  IY. — 2.  If  any  one  shall  say  that  human  sciences  are  to  be  so 
freely  treated  that  their  assertions,  although  opposed  to  revealed  doc- 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XXIX 


against  many  of  the  results  of  modern  science  ; and 
certainly  she  has  the  same  reason  for  it  that  she  has 
always  had  in  the  past  to  denounce  every  new  dis- 
covery, every  progress  of  science  and  reason  that 
unveiled  any  of  the  infallible  ignorance  imbedded  in 
the  interpretations,  creeds,  dogmas,  and  institutions 
fabricated  by  the  prelates  who  have,  at  various 
\ times,  composed  her  Clinrch  Synods  and  Councils. 

In  a really  able  work,  republished  in  this  coun- 
try and  strangely  entitled  Modern  since 

it  is  principally  devoted  to  the  refutation  of  Pan- 
theism, which  above  all  other  Theisms  recognizes 
and  proclaims  God, — the  learned  author  notices  the 
“kindly  indulgence”  now  extended  to  Spinoza  and 
his  writings.  He  says, — “One  of  the  most  signifi- 
cant symptoms  of  a reaction  in  favor  of  Pantheism 
may  be  seen  in  the  nnmerons  republications  and 
versions  of  the  writings  of  Spinoza  which  have  re- 
cently appeared,  in  the  public  homage  which  has 
])een  paid  to  his  character  and  genius,  and  in  the 
more  than  x^hilosophic  tolerance — the  kindly  indnl- 


trine,  are  to  be  held  as  true,  and  cannot  be  condemned  by  the  Church  : 
let  him  be  anathema. 

3.  If  any  one  shall  assert  it  to  be  possible  that  sometimes,  according 
to  the  progress  of  science,  a sense  is  to  be  given  to  doctrines  pro- 
pounded by  the  Church  different  from  that  which  the  Church  has  un- 
derstood and  understands  : let  him  be  anathema. — Dogmatic  Decrees 
of  the  Vatican  CowwaY,  1870.  (Translated  by  Rev.  Philip  Schaff,  D.D.) 

* Modern  Atheism,  under  its  forms  of  Pantheism,  Alaterialism, 
Secularism,  Development,  and  Natural  Laws.  By  James  Buchanan, 
D.D.,  LL.D.,  Divinity  Professor  in  the  New  College,  Edinburgh.  Bos- 
ton, 1867. 


XXX 


tkaxslator’s  preface. 


gence — wliicli  lias  been  shoAvn  to  bis  most  cbarac- 
teristic  princix)les.  He  is  now  recognized  by  many 
as  the  real  founder  both  of  the  Philosophic  and  of 
the  Exegetic  Rationalism,  which  lias  been  apjdied, 
with  such  disastrous  effect,  to  the  interpretation 
alike  of  the  volume  of  Mature  and  of  the  records 
of  Revelation.”  ‘‘All  this  might  be  accounted  for 
by  ascribing  it  simply  to  the  admiration  of  philo- 
sophical tliinkers  for  the  extraordinary  talents  of 
the  man.”  “But  it  is  more  difficult  to  exiDlain 
the  eulogiums  with  which  the  reappearance  of 
Spinoza  has  been  greeted,  and  the  cordiality  with 
which  his  daring  speculations  have  been  received. 
He  has  not  only  been  exculpated  from  the  charge 
of  Atheism,  but  even  panegyrized  as  a saint  and 
martyr!”  The  celebrated  Grerman  Divine,  Schleier- 
macher,  spoke  of  him  as — “That  holy  and  yet 
outcast  man,”  “who  was  full  of  the  sentiment  of 
religion,  because  he  was  filled  with  the  Holy 
Spirit!”  “Instead  of  accusing  Sj^inoza  of  Athe- 
ism,” says  M.  Cousin,  “he  should  rather  be  sub- 
jected to  the  opxDosite  reproach.”  “He  has  been 
loudly  accused,”  says  Professor  Saisset,  “ of  Athe. 
ism  and  impiety.  The  truth  is  that  never  did  a 
man  believe  in  God  with  a faith  more  profound, 
with  a soul  more  sincere,  than  Spinoza.  Take  God 
from  him,  and  you  take  from  him  his  system,  his 
thought,  his  life.”  “Sj)inoza,  although  a Jew,’’ 
says  the  Abbe  Sabatier,  a member  of  the  Catholic 
clergy,  “always  lived  as  a Christian,  and  was  as 


LIFE  A:S'D  WRITIXGS  OF  SPIA^OZA. 


xxxi 


Avell  versed  in  our  divine  Testament  as  in  tlie  books 
of  the  ancient  Law.  If  he  ended,  as  we  cannot 
doubt  he  did,  in  embracing  Christianity,  he  ought 
to  be  enrolled  in  the  remit  of  saints^  instead  of 
being  idaced  at  the  head  of  the  enemies  of  God.'’ 
“Contrast  the  language  in  which  Spinoza  is  now 
compared  to  Thomas  a Kempis,  and  proposed  as  a 
fit  subject  for  canonization  itself,  with  the  terms  in 
which  he  was  wont  to  be  spoken  of  by  men  of 
former  times ; and  tlie  startling  difference  will  suffi 
ciently  indicate  a great  change  in  the  current  of 
European  thought.” 

The  principal  object  of  these  prefatory  remarks, 
as  stated  at  the  commencemeDt,  was  to  present  a 
brief  sketch  of  the  celebrated  philosotDher’s  life, 
and  a mere  bibliographic  notice  of  his  writings,  in 
order  that  those  readers  who  were  not  before  ac- 
quainted with  them  might  be  able  to  form  an  esti- 
mate of  his  character ; and  this  having  been  ac- 
complished, I do  not  think  it  necessary  to  extend 
them  further  by  attempting  to  give  even  a brief 
resume  of  the  doctrines  enunciated  in  the  “Ethics,” 
a version  of  Avhich  is  now  presented ; for  with  the 
work  in  hand  it  would,  indeed,  seem  suiDerfluous, 
even  if  I were  competent  to  perform  such  a task 
properly.  In  all  complete  systems  of  philosophy 
and  religion  a conception  of  God  is  fundamental. 
I will  therefore  only  venture  to  add  that  we  meet 
at  the  outset,  in  the  First  Part  of  the  Ethics,  with 
a definition  or  conception  of  God  as  the  Absolutely 


XXXll 


TKAXSLATOll’  S PREFACE. 


Infinite  Being,  or  Substance, — infinite  in  extension 
as  well  as  infinite  in  tliouglit, — eternal,  without  be- 
ginning or  end, — self -existent,  iincaused, — or  to  use 
the  equivalent  expression  of  Si^inoza,  causa  sui^  its 
own  cause,  or  cause  of  itself.  All  things  are  in 
(lod,  and  nothing  can  be,  or  be  conceived  to  be 
out  of  God.  God  is  dbom  all,  and  tlcrougli  all,  and 
in  all;  and  all  things  live,  and  move,  and  have 
their  being  in  God.^  This  conception  is  most  ad- 

In  contradistinction  to  this  conception  there  is  the  Theism  which 
affirms  a definite,  living,  personal  God,  separate  and  distinct  from  Na- 
ture, who  has  created  the  universe  and  all  things  therein  out  of  no- 
thing, and  who  rules  and  governs  all  for  an  end  or  purpose.  It  is  not 
to  be  presumed  that  all  theologians  now  hold  to  this  conception  of  a 
personal  God  in  its  Uterality.  The  conception  of  the  vulgar,  however, 
is  still  that  of  an  anthropomorphic  Deity — a Deity  in  human  shape  or 
form,  who  resides  in  Heaven,  and  is  generally  imagined  as  seated  on  a 
throne — a Personality  which  the  imagination  of  man  projects  as  a 
magnified  and  deified  image  of  himself.  The  language  usually  em- 
ployed in  religious  services  when  speaking  of  or  addressing  the  Deity, 
fosters  this  imagination,  which  is  readily  entertained  not  only  by  the 
uncultivated,  hut  also  by  the  intelligent  and  pious  whose  religious 
faith  and  hopes  are  founded  upon  it,  or  who  think  it  wise  to  adhere  to 
a belief  established  by  prescription  and  bound  up  with  so  many  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church  and  the  supposed  well-being  of  society. 

Both  of  these  conceptions  existed  under  the  Paganism  that  was  van- 
quished and  absorbed  by  Christianity,  and  both  of  them  reappear  in 
the  sacred  gospels  and  other  writings  of  the  first  and  second  centuries. 
The  one  represented  the  philosophic  thought  and  reasoning  of  the  few, 
the  Other,  the  imagination  and  faith  of  the  many.  At  that  period  not 
more  than  one-eighth  part  of  the  surface  of  our  Earth  was  known  to 
the  nations  among  which  the  Christian  religion  was  then  being  first 
taught.  Its  form,  position,  and  movement  in  our  planetary  system 
were  equally  unknown,  and  there  was  none  but  the  most  inadequate 
conception  of  the  universe.  As  man  looked  around  him,  the  horizon 
seemed  to  bound  his  earthly  habitation,  and  as  he  looked  upward,  the 
sky  seemed  to  cover  him  in  like  a not  far  distant  roof,  above  which 
and  beyond  his  vision  was  the  dwelling-place  of  the  gods  who  ruled 


LIFE  AND  AVRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XXXlll 


mirably  and  clearly  set  fortli.  It  lias  its  source  in 
the  reason  or  understanding,  not  in  the  imagina- 
tion, and  is  iioav  very  generally  accepted  by  phi- 
losophers, men  of  science,  and  the  most  free  and 
thoughtful  minds  everywhere.  In  the  Second  Part, 
the  philosopher  treats  of  tlie  origin  and  nature  of 
the  human  mind  or  soul.  In  the  Third,  Fourth, 
and  Fifth  Parts,  the  source  and  nature  of  the  hu- 
man emotions  or  passions  are  investigated,  their 
power  defined,  and  the  way  pointed  out  whereby 
their  excessiA^e  and  therefore  hurtful  action  may  be 
controlled,  so  that  man  may  be  enabled  to  Ih'e  in 
accordance  Avith  tlie  dictates  of  reason  and  enjoy 
that  supreme  felicity  and  immortality  of  soul  Avhich 
the  practice  of  Aurtue,  and  the  knoAvledge  and  intel- 
lectual loA^e  of  God,  can  alone  procure.  If  ‘Glie 
proper  study  of  mankind  is  man,”  he  avIio  Avould 
‘G^now  himself”  Avill  here  find  a volume  of  nature 
opened  in  his  hand,  and  AAutli  the  aid  of  his  oaati 
reflection  may  learn  in  it  that  Avliich  he  Avill  noAvhere 
else  find  so  clearly  and  so  fully  set  forth. 

In  an  interesting  and  instructiA^e  reAueAv"^  of  Spinoza, 
by  J.  A.  Fronde,  that  able  English  Avriter  speaking  of 
this  portion  of  the  Ethics,  and  referring  to  Sjiinoza’s 

the  affairs  of  the  world.  The  conception  of  a personal  anthropomor- 
phic Deity  was  consistent  with  so  limited  a knowledge  of  the  universe. 
It  were  useless  to  point  out  that  whatever  there  is  of  conflict  between 
Science  and  the  Church,  grows  out  of  these  differing  conceptions  of 
God.  Between  true  Religion  and  Science,  however,  there  is  not  and 
can  never  be  any  conflict. 

* Republished  in  his  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects. 


XXXIV 


translator’ s preface. 


explanation  of  the  composition  of  the  human  body 
and  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  unity  which  depends 
on  the  relation  which  the  component  parts  maintain 
towards  each  other,  says:  “This  is  obviously  the 
case  with  the  body,  and  if  we  can  translate  meta- 
physics into  common  experience  it  is  equally  the  case 
witli  mind.  Thei'e  are  pleasures  of  sense  and  plea- 
sures of  intellect  ; a thousand  tastes,  tendencies,  and 
inclinations  form  onr  mental  composition  ; and  since 
one  contradicts  another,  and  each  has  a tendency  to 
become  dominant,  it  is  only  in  the  harmonious  equi- 
poise of  their  several  activities,  in  their  due  and  just 
subordination,  that  any  unity  of  action  or  consistency 
of  feeling  is  possible.  After  a masterly  analysis  of  all 
these  tendencies  (the  most  complete  by  far  which  has 
ever  been  made  by  any  moral  philosopher),  Spinoza 
arrives  at  the  principles  under  which  unity  and  con- 
sistency can  be  obtained  as  the  condition  upon  which 
a being  so  composed  can  look  for  any  sort  of  happi- 
ness ; and  these  principles  arrived  at  as  they  are  by  a 
route  so  different,  are  the  same,  and  are  proposed  by 
Spinoza  as  being  the  same,  as  those  of  the  Christian 
religion.'’ 

This  recognition  of  the  remarkable  insight  and 
ability  with  wliicli  Spinoza  has  treated  of  the  affec- 
tions or  passions  is  but  a repetition  of  what  has  always 
been  conceded  ; and,  more  recently,  we  again  find  it 
repeated  by  Dr..  ALaudsley,  who  by  his  special  pro- 
fessional studies  may  be  regarded  as  competent 
to  speak  on  the  subject,  and  who,  in  his  work  on 


LIFE  AND  AV^JUTINGS  OF  SPINOZA. 


XX  XY 


the  Physiology  and  Pathology  of  the  Mind  (Cliap. 
VI.,  the  Emotions),  London,  1867,  says  tliat 
‘‘Sj)inoza’s  admirable  account  of  the  j^assions  lias 
never  yet  been  sui‘X)assed,  and  certainly  will  not 
easily  be  surpassed.” 

Many  wlio  have  sought  ‘‘to  know  wisdom  and  in- 
struction ; to  perceive  the  w'oids  of  understanding”  ; 
many  of  the  intellectual,  the  virtuous,  the  free,  who 
have  studied  the  “Ethics,”  have  found  in  it  satisfac- 
tion, peace  of  soul,  rest.  For  it  is  through  the  under- 
standing alone,  not  through  tlie  imagination,  that  man 
can  attain  to  true  knowledge  of  the  absolute  perfec- 
tion, and  power,  and  love  of  God. 

Looked  at  as  a philosoxdiical  work,  the  Ethics  is  a 
body  of  X)ure  reason.  The  imagination  has  no  place 
in  it.  Regarded  merely  as  a literary  work,  and  with 
reference  to  the  xnesent  time  and  tastes,  its  form,  its 
style,  is  cold  and  unattractive ; its  language  is  plain, 
literal,  iterative,  and  devoid  of  any  rhetorical  display. 
Besides,  the  frequent  references  to  Prox^ositions,  etc., 
intersx^ersed  throughout  the  text  will  ax)pear  like  ob- 
structions to  the  reader  who  does  not  wish  to  stox)  to 
consult  them.  But  if,  as  Emerson  says,  “nothing  but 
great  w^eigh  tin  things  can  afford  a quite  literal  sx^eech,” 
here  at  least  are  treated  subjects  so  lofty,  so  weighty, 
of  such  high  interest  to  the  earnest  seeker  and  thought- 
ful reader  (Spinoza  wrote  for  no  others),  that  even  the 
rigid  form  and  cold  simx^licity  and  directness  of  the 
geometrical  method  of  the  work  is  not  without  a charm 
to  the  x^hilosophical  student,  while  it  gives  to  its  ar- 


XXXVl 


TK AXSLATOE'  8 PKKF ACE. 


guiiieiits  a force  and  effect  wliicli  could  not  be  in- 
creased by  a more  free  and  ornate  discursive  style. 

T liave  now  only  to  add  a word  by  way  of  explana- 
tion and  apology  for  my  undertaking.  In  I860  I 
employed  sncli  evening,  hours  as  I could  conveniently 
devote  for  the  purpose,  in  making  a translation  of  the 
Ethics  ; and  although  I Avas  but  poorly  fitted  for  the 
task,  and  1113^  progress  necessarily  slow  and  often  in- 
terrupted, A'et  I succeeded  in  completing  the  First 
and  Second  Parts.  Unable  to  continue  the  Avork  I 
put  it  aside,  Avith  the  intention,  hoAvever,  of  resuming 
it  AA'henever  an  opportunity^  occurred.  But  this  Avas 
long  delay^ed,  for  although  a month  scarcely^  eA^er 
passed  AA'ithont  my'  thinking  of  the  matter,  y'et  it 
Avas  not  until  the  A\'inter  of  1873-4  that  I AA'as  again 
able  to  devote  some  evening  hours  to  it.  AVhen  I had 
linished  the  Fourth  Part  I Avas  once  more  obliged  to 
desist.  In  the  folloAAing  summer  I learned  that  an 
English  translation  had  been  published  in  London, 
and  at  once  sent  for  a copy'.  It  proved  to  be  the  Avork 
of  Dr.  Willis,  of  Avhich  I have  already'  made  mention. 
I noAv  felt  that  my'  labor  Avas  unnecessaiy,  and  for 
the  time  abandoned  all  thought  of  completing  it. 
But  Avhen  Avinter  came  and  I had  some  spare  even- 
ing hours,  a desire  revived  to  finish  AA'hat  had  so  long 
occupied  my'  mind,  and  I resolved  to  comxffete  the 
translation  that  I might  offer  it,  mentally',  as  a hum- 
ble tribute  of  respect  for  the  pure  and  wise  soul  Avho 
kneAv  and  loved  God  AA'ith  an  understanding  Avhich 
enabled  him  to  * * AA'orshix)  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  SPINOZA.  XXXvii 

The  first  and  second  jjarts  were  translated  from 
Bnider  s Leipsic  edition,  1843,  and  the  remaining  yarts 
from  the  oi'iginal  Amsterdam  edition,  1677  (my  coijy 
of  whi(!li  bears  on  a fly-leaf  the  autograph  of  Anthony 
( ■ollins,  a writei*  of  celebrity,  and  a corresi^ondent 
and  intimate  friend  of  John  Locke).  I have  also  had 
before  me  Sq,isset’s  French  translation,  and,  besides, 
have  had  the  benefit  of  comparing  niy  version,  aftei* 
its  completion,  with  that  of  Dr.  Willis,  in  order  that 
if  any  material  differences  were  found,  I might  re-ex- 
amine the  original. 

(Jommenced  and  cariied  on  as  a means  of  enjoy- 
ment after  daily  labor,  and  without  any  definite  in- 
tention or  scar(V‘ly  even  a passing  thought  of  pub- 
lishing it,  I certainly  should  not  now  venture  to  put 
it  in  print  but  for  the  fact  that  no  translation  of  any 
of  Spinoza’s  writings  has  been  jmblished  in  this  coun- 
try ; and  it  is  only  after  much  and  proper  hesitation 
that  I have  finally  concluded  to  send  it  to  press,  in  the 
hope  that  if  there  are  some  who  would  be  pleased  to 
read  a version  of  the  Ethics,  this,  if  it  reaches  their 
hands,  may  be  accepted  as  a useful  contribution  to 
their  convenience.  D.  D.  S. 


PlNIiLEWOOI),  N.  J. 
July,  1876. 


CORRECTIONS. 


Page  37.  13th  line,— /or  Prop.  16,  read  Prop.  17. 

“ 62.  3d  line,— /or  Gocl  is  Olie.  reeid  God  is  One. 

“ 81.  Last  line,— /or  and  read  or. 

“ 94.  9th  line  from  bottom, — after  Prop.  28,  read  Part  I. 
“ 155.  22d  line,— /or  Prop.  9,  read  Scliol.  Prop.  9. 

249.  8th  line,— /or  Coroll.  read  Coroll.  I. 

“ 249.  8th  line,— o/jfer  therefore  read  (by  Prop.  19). 


THE  ETHICS. 


IN  FIVE  PARTS. 


Paet  j I. — Of  God. 

II. — Of  the  Xatuee  axd  Okigix  of  the 
Soul. 

III.  — Of  the  Origix  axd  jS'ature  of  the 

Affections  or  Passions. 

IV.  — Of  Man’s  Slavery,  or  the  Force  of 

THE  Passions. 

i/  V.— Of  Man’s  Freedom,  or  the  Power 
of  the  Understanding. 


r 


C^v 


OijUOUAi^ 

(5Uwi‘^  ..>  '^ 


'Cbui- 


I 


r .T 


ifuv^iu  4 

-41  k 


ETHICS 


FIKST,  PAKT. 


.y-f 


j If 


A 


OF  GOD. 


DEFIXITIOXS 


: A ■ : 


' I.  I understand  by  cause  of  itself  that  the  essence 
of  which  involves  existence ; or  that  which  by  its 
nature  can  only  be  conceived  as  existing. 

II.  A thing  is  said  to  be  finite  in  its  Idncl  when  it 
can  be  limited  by  another  thing  of  the  same  nature. 
A body,  for  example,  is  called  a finite  thing,  because 
Ave  can  ahvays  conceive  another  and  larger  body.  In 
the  same  way  one  thought  is  limited  by  another 
thought ; but  a body  is  not  limited  by  a thought,  nor 
a thought  by  a body. 

III.  I understand  by  Substance  that  Avhich  exists 
of  itself,  and  is  conceded  by  and  through  itself  ; that 
is  to  say,  that  of  which  the  conception  can  be  formed 
Avithout  having  need  of  the  conception  of  any  other 
thing  as  its  cause. 


IT.  I understand  by  attribute  that  AAdiich  the  un- 
derstanding perceives  in  substance  as  constituting  its 
essence. 


4 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


S' 


Y.  I understand  by  mode  an  affection  of  substance, 
or  tliat  which  is  in  some  other  thing,  by  or  through 
which  it  is  also  conceived. 

YI.  I understand  by  God  the  Absolutely  Infinite 
Being ; that  is  to  say,  substance  constituted  l)X-mi 
infinity  of  attributes,  each  of  which  expresses  an 
elernal  imd  infinlT^'^essence. 

Explancdion. — I say  absolutely  infinite — not  in- 
finite in  its  kind  ; for  that  Avhich  is  only  infinite  in  its 
kind  may  be  denied  infinity  of  attributes  ; but  to  the 
essence  of  the  absolutely  infinite  belongs  whatsoever 
expresses  essence  and  involves  no  negation. 

YII.  A thing  is  said  to  be  free  which  exists  by  the 
sole  necessity  of  its  own  nature,  and  is  determined  to 
action  by  itself  alone.  A thing  is  necessary^  or  rather 
eoustrained^  which  is  determined  by  some  other  thing 
to  exist  and  to  act  in  a certain  determinate  manner. 

YIII.  By  eternity  I understand  existence  itself,  as 
it  is  conceived  as  following  necessarily  from  the  very 
definition  of  the  thing  eternal. 


Expt. — For  such  existence  as  is  conceived  as  an 
eternal  verity  is  the  very  essence  of  the  thing  eternal ; 
and  therefore  it  cannot  be  explained  by  duration  or 
time,  even  though  duration  may  be  conceived  as  hav- 
ing neither  beginning  uor  end. 


AXIOMS. 

I.  AYliatever  is,  is  in  itself  or  in  some  other  thing. 

II.  A thing  which  cannot  be  conceived  by  another 
thing  must  be  conceived  by  itself. 

III.  A determinate  cause  being  given,  an  effect 
necessarily  follows  ; and  on  the  contrary,  if  no  de- 
terminate cause  be  given,  it  is  impossible  for  an  effect 
to  follow. 


PAliT  I. — OF  GOD. 


fL  TV.  Knowledge  of  an  elfect  dej^ends  upon  know- 
edge  of  its  cause,  and  involves  it. 

Y.  Tilings  Avliicli  have  nothing  in  common  with 
each  other  cannot  be  understood  the  one  by  the  other  ; 
or,  in  other  w'ords,  the  conception  of  one  does  not  in- 
volve the  conception  of  the  other. 

YI.  A true  idea  must  agree  with  its  ideate  (image 
or  conception  of  a thing). 

YII.  When  a thing  can  be  conceived  as  non-exist- 
ent, its  essence  does  not  involve  existence. 


PROPOSITIOXS. 

PROP.  I. — Substance  is  prior  in  nature  to  its 
atFections. 

Demoxstkatiox. — This  is  evident  by  Definitions  3 
and  5. 

PROP.  II. — Between  two  substances  whicli  liave 
different  attributes  there  is  nothing  in 
common. 

Demoxstu. — This  also  is  manifest  from  Def.  3.  For 
each  substance  must  be  in  itself  and  be  conceived  by 
itself ; in  other  words,  the  conception  of  one  of  them 
does  not  involve  the  conceiition  of  the  other. 

PROP.  III. — Things  that  have  nothing  in  com- 
mon cannot  be  the  cause  one  of  another. 

Demoxstk. — If  they  have  nothing  in  common,  then 
(by  Axiom  5)  they  cannot  be  understood  by  one  an- 
other ; and,  consequently  (by  Axiom  4),  cannot  be  the 
cause  one  of  another,  q.  e.  d. 


6 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PEOP.  TV. — Two  or  more  distinct  things  are 
distinguished  from  each  other  either  hy  the 
diversity  of  tlie  attributes  of  their  sub- 
stances or  by  the  diversity  of  the  affec- 
tions of  the  same. 

Demoxste. — All  that  is,  is  either  in  itself  or  in 
another  thing  (by  Axiom  1)  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Defs. 
3 and  5),  beyond  the  understanding  there  is  nothing 
given  except  substances  and  their  affections.  Conse- 
quently, there  is  nothing  besides  the  understanding 
by  which  individual  things  can  be  distinguished  from 
each  Other  except  substances,  or,  which  comes  to  the 
same  (by  Def.  4),  their  attributes  and  affections. 

Q.  E.  D. 

PEOP.  Y. — In  the  nature  of  things  there  can- 
not be  two  or  more  substances  of  the  same 
nature  or  attribute. 

Demoxste. — If  several  distinct  substances  existed, 
they  would  be  distinguished  from  each  other  either 
by  diversity  of  attributes  or  by  diversity  of  affections 
(by  preceding  Prop.).  If  by  diversity  of  attributes 
only,  then  it  were  conceded  that  there  is  but  one  sub- 
stance with  the  same  attribute  ; if  by  diversity  of 
affections  only,  then,  as  substance  is  prior  in  nature  to 
its  affections  (by  Prop.  1),  it  would  follow  that,  put- 
ting aside  its  affections,  and  considering  substance  in 
itself — that  is  (by  Defs.  3 and  6),  considering  it  truly, 
it  could  not  be  conceived  as  distinct  from  other  sub- 
stances ; in  other  words  (by  preceding  Proji.),  there 
cannot  be  several  substances,  but  one  only.  q.  e.  d. 


o 


PART  I. — OF  GOD. 


7 


PEOP.  YI. — One  substance  cannot  be  produced 
by  anotber  substance. 


De^ioxstr. — There  cannot  in  the  nature  of  things 
be  two  substances  with  the  same  attribute  (by  x)reced- 
ing  Prop.)  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  2),  Avhich  have  some- 
thing in  common  ; and  so  (by  Prop.  3)  one  substance 
cannot  be  the  cause  of,  or  be  produced  by  another 
substance.  Q.  e.  d. 

Corollary. — Hence  it  follows  that  substance  cannot 
be  i^roduced  by  any  other  thing  ; for  in  the  nature  of 
things  there  is  nothing  but  substances  and  their 
affections,  as  appears  by  Ax.  1 and  Defs.  3 and  5. 
Yow,  as  substance  cannot  be  produced  by  substance 
(by  preceding  Prox).),  therefore,  and  absolutely,  it 
cannot  be  ]produced  by  any  other  thing,  q.  e.  d. 

Axotiier  Demoxstr. — It  is  still  more  easily  de- 
monstrated by  absurdity ; for  if  substance  could  be 
produced  by  something  else,  knowledge  of  substance 
would  depend  upon  knowledge  of  its  cause  (by  Ax. 
4),  and  therefore  (by  Def,  3)  it  would  not  be  substance. 


PKOP.  YII. — Existence  belongs  to  tlie  nature 
of  substance. 

Demoxstr. — The  production  of  substance  is  im- 
possible (by  Coroll,  to  p) receding  Prop.).  Substance, 
therefore,  is  the  cause  of  itself ; that  is  (by  Def.  1),  its 
essence  necessarily  involves  existence  ; or,  in  other 
words,  existence  belongs  to  its  nature,  q.  e.  d. 

PKOP.  — All  substance  is  necessarily 

infinite. 


Demoxstr. — ^^Substance  x^ossessing  one  attribute 


8 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


exists  only  as  one  (by  Prop.  5),  and  to  exist  belongs  to  • 
its  nature  (by  Prop.  7).  It  will,  therefore,  by  its  nature 
exist  either  finitely  or  infinitely.  Xow,  it  is  impos- 
sible that  it  should  exist  finitely,  for  (by  Def.  2)  then 
it  would  be  limited  by  another  substance  of  the  same 
nature,  which  would  also  have  to  exist  necessarily 
(by  Prop.  7),  so  that  there  would  be  two  substances 
with  the  same  attribute,  which  is  absurd  (by  Prop.  5). 
Therefore  it  exists  infinitely,  q.  e.  d. 

Scholium  1. — As  finity  is  in  truth  iiartial  negation 
of  existence,  and  infinity  the  absolute  affirmation  of 
existence  of  every  nature,  it  follows,  therefore,  from 
Prop.  7,  alone,  that  all  substance  must  be  infinite. 

SciiOL.  2. — They  who  judge  confusedly  of  all  things, 
and  who  are  not  accustomed  to  know  them  hj  their 
first  causes,  I do  not  doubt  will  find  it  difficult  to  un- 
derstand the  demonstration  of  our  7th  Proposition. 
The  difficulty  here  arises  from  not  distinguishing  be- 
tween the  modifications  of  substances  and  the  sub- 
stances themselves,  and  from  ignorance  of  the  Avay  in 
which  things  are  produced.  And  hence  it  is,  seeing 
that  natural  things  have  a beginning  they  imagine 
that  it  is  so  with  substances.  They  who  are  ignorant 
of  the  true  causes  of  things  confound  all,  and  without 
any  mental  doubt  or  reluctance  they  fanc}^  plants  and 
trees  and  animals,  as  well  as  men,  to  be  endowed  with 
speech,  and  to  spring  from  stones  as  well  as  to  be 
generated  from  seed,  and  that  one  form  can  be  trans- 
muted into  another.  It  is  thus,  also,  that  they  who 
confound  the  Divine  with  human  nature  readily  as- 
cribe human  passions  to  God,  even  whilst  they  are 
yet  ignorant  as  to  how  the  passions  are  produced  in 
the  soul  of  man. 

If  men,  however,  were  attentive  to  the  nature  of 
substance  they  would  not  in  the  least  doubt  the  truth 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


9 


of  our  7tli  Proposition, — on  tlie  contrary,  it  would  be 
an  axiom  for  all,  and  be  counted  among  common 
ideas  or  notions.  For  by  substance  they  wonld  nn- 
\derstand  that  which  is  in  itself  and  is  conceived  by 
\tself,  that  is  to  say,  it  would  be  that  the  conception 
<^f  which  has  no  need  of  the  conception  of  any  other 
t\iing  ; and  by  moditications  or  modes  they  would,  on 
tie  contrary,  understand  that  which  is  in  another 
thing,  and  of  which  the  conception  is  formed  by  and 
through  the  conception  of  that  other  thing.  And 
hence  it  is  that  we  are  able  to  form  true  ideas  of  non- 
existent moditications ; for  although  they  have  no 
actual  existence  out  of  the  understanding,  yet  then- 
essence  is  comprehended  in  some  other  thing  in  such 
a way  that  they  may  be  conceived  by  or  through  that 
other  thing.  But  substance  being  conceived  only  by 
and  through  itself,  it  has  not,  beyond  or  out  of  the 
understanding,  any  verity  save  in  itself. 

If,  therefore,  any  one  should  say  that  he  had  a clear 
and  distinct,  or,  in  other  Avords,  a true  idea  of  sub- 
stance, and  nevertheless  doubted  Avhether  such  sub- 
stance existed,  that  would  indeed  be  the  same  as  if 
he  said  that  he  had  a true  idea  and  yet  doubted 
Avhether  it  was  not  a false  idea  (as  Avill  be  manifest  to 
any  one  who  considers  the  matter).  Or,  if  he  should 
maintain  that  substance  was  created,  this  would  be 
like  maintaining  that  a false  idea  might  become  a true 
idea — than  which  nothing  more  absurd  can  be  con- 
ceived. It  must,  therefore,  necessarily  be  admitted 
that  the  existence  as  well  as  the  essence  of  substance 
is  an  eternal  verity. 

And  in  this  way  we  may  conclude  that  there  exists 
only  one  substance  of  the  same  nature,  a point  which 
I think  it  worth  the  trouble  to  establish  here  still 
more  fully  ; and  that  I may  do  this  in  proper  order. 


10 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


it  is  to  be  observed : 1.  That  the  true  definition  of  a 
particular  tiling  neither  involves  nor  expresses  any- 
thing more  than  the  nature  of  the  thing  defined.  2. 
From  this  it  follows  : That  no  definition  involves  or 
ex^iresses  any  certain  number  of  individuals,  inas- 
much as  it  expresses  nothing  more  than  the  nature  of 
the  particular  thing  defined.  For  examxDle  : the  de- 
linition  of  a triangle  exjiresses  nothing  more  than  the 
simxile  nature  of  the  triangle,  and  does  not  ex^irass 
any  certain  number  of  triangles.  3.  It  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  there  is  necessarily  some  x)articular  cause 
for  the  existence  of  each  individual  thing  that  exists. 
4.  Lastl}",  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  cause  by  which 
each  individual  thing  exists,  must  either  be  included 
in  the  very  nature  and  definition  of  the  thing  existing 
itself  (for  it  certainly  belongs  to  its  nature  to  exist), 
or  else  it  must  be  outside  of  or  beyond  the  individual 
thing  in  question. 

From  these  premises  it  follo^vs  that  if  in  nature 
there  exists  any  certain  number  of  individuals,  it  is 
necessary  that  there  should  be  a cause  why  this  pre- 
- else  number  of  individuals,  neither  more  nor  less, 
should  exist.  If,  for  examxile,  in  the  nature  of  things 
20  men  exist  (and  for  the  sake  of  greater  perspicuity 
I will  suppose  them  to  exist  simultaneously,  and  that 
no  others  in  nature  existed  before  them),  it  will  not 
suffice  (in  order  to  give  a reason  for  the  existence  of 
these  20  men)  to  show  the  cause  of  human  nature  in 
general ; but  it  is  further  necessary  to  show  a cause 
wliy  neither  more  nor  less  than  20  men  exist ; inas- 
much as  by  Observation  3 there  must  necessarily  be  a 
cause  wily  each  xiarticular  individual  (among  the  20) 
exists.  Xow^  this  cause  (by  Observations  2 and  3) 
cannot  be  contained  in  human  nature  itself,  inasmuch 
as  the  true  definition  of  man  does  not  in  anywise  in- 


PAPwT  I. — OF  GOD. 


11 


volve  tlie  number  tioeniy  ; so  that  (by  Observation  4) 
the  cause  why  these  twenty  men  exist,  and  conse- 
quently why  each  particular  one  of  them  exists,  must 
necessarily  be  out  of  and  external  to  eacli  and  every 
one  of  them.  AYherefore  we  may  conclude  absolutely 
that  everything  of  which  by  its  nature  there  may 
exist  many  individuals,  must  necessarily  have  an  ex- 
ternal cause  for  its  existence.  lYow,  ^ince  existence 
belongs  to  the  nature  of  substance  (as  already  shown 
in  this  Scholium),  the  definition  of  substance  must 
necessarily  involve  its  existence  ; and  consequently 
from  its  very  definition  alone  must  its  existence  be 
concluded.  But  from  this  definition  (as  shown  in 
Observations  2 and  3)  it  does  not  follow  that  several 
substances  exist,  but  it  does  follow  necessarily  that 
there  exists  only  one  substance  of  the  same  nature^ 
— as  we  proposed  to  establish. 


PROP.  IX. — The  more  of  reality  or  being  any- 
thing has,  the  greater  will  be  the  number 
of  attributes  it  possesses. 


DemoxstPw. — This  is  evident  by  Def.  4. 


PROP.  X. — Each  particular  attribute  of  the 
one  substance  must  be  conceived  by  and 
throngh  itself. 

De-Aioxstr. — Attribute  is  that  which  the  mind  per- 
ceives in  substance  as  constituting  its  essence  (by 
Def.  4).  It  must,  therefore  (by  Def.  3),  be  conceived 
by  and  through  itself,  q.  e.  d. 

ScnoL. — It  appears  by  this  that  although  two  attri- 
butes may  be  conceived  as  really  distinct,  that  is,  the 
one  without  the  aid  of  the  other,  still  we  cannot  con- 


12 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


elude  from  tins  tliat  tney  constitute  two  different 
beings  or  substances.  For  it  is  of  tlie  nature  of  sub- 
stance tliat  each  of  its  attributes  sliould  be  conceiv- 
able by  itself,  inasmucli  as  all  its  attributes  were 
always  in  it,  and  no  one  of  tliein  was  ever  produced 
by  anotlier,  but  each  one  individually  expresses  the 
reality  or  being  of  substance.  It  is  therefore  very 
far  from  being  an  absurdity  to  ascribe  several  attri- 
butes to  one  substance.  For  nothing  in  nature  is 
clearer  than  that  each  individual  entity  must  be  con- 
ceived under  some  attribute  or  other,  and  that  the 
more  it  has  of  reality  or  being,  the  greater  will  be  the 
number  of  its  attributes  which  express  the  necessity 
or  eternity  and  infinity  of  its  nature ; and  conse- 
quently nothing  can  be  clearer  than  that  we  must 
necessarily  define  the  Absolutely  Infinite  Being  (as 
we  have  done  in  Bef.  6)  as  the  Being  consisting  of  an 
infinity  of  attributes,  each  of  which  expresses  a cer- 
tain eternal  and  infinite  essence.  If,  now,  any  one 
•should  ask  by  what  sign  diversity  of  substances  may 
be  distinguished,  he  has  only  to  read  the  following 
Propositions,  which  show  tliat  in  the  nature  of  things 
there  exists  only  one  substance,  and  that  it  is  ab- 
solutely infinite ; so  that  to  seek  for  such  a sign  is 
qierfectly  useless. 

PROP.  XL — God,  or  Substance  constituted  of 
an  infinity  of  attributes,  each  of  which 
s expresses  an  eternal  and  infinite  essence, 
exists  necessarily. 

I)e:\ioxste.  1. — If  you  deny  this,  conceive,  if  it  be 
possible,  that  God  does  not  exist.  Then  (by  Ax.  7) 
the  essence  of  God  would  not  involve  existence.  But 


PAPwT  J. — OF  GOD. 


13 


this  (by  Prop.  7)  is  absurd.  God  therefore  exists 
necessarily,  q.  e.  d.- 

Demoxstr.  2. — A cause  or  reason  must  be  assign- 
able for  the  existence  or  the  non-existence  of  each 
individual  thing.  For  example,  if  a triangle  exists, 
there  must  be  a reason  or  cause  for  its  existence.  If 
it  does  not  exist,  there  must  likewise  be  a reason  or 
cause  whicli  prevents  or  which  annuls  its  existence. 
Xow  this  cause  or  reason  must  be  found  either  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing,  or  outside  of  and  beyond  it. 
For  example,  the  reason  why  a square  circle  does  not 
exist  is  indicated  by  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself, 
and  no  less  because  the  idea  of  such  a thing  involves 
a contradiction.  But,  on  the  contrary,  the  reason 
why  substance  exists,  is  because  it  follows  from  its 
very  nature,  which  involves  existence  {^ide  Prop.  7). 
But  the  reason  of  the  existence  or  non-existence  of  a 
circle  or  a triangle  does  not  follow  from  the  nature  of 
either,  but  from  the  universal  order  of  corporeal  or 
material  nature,  from  which  it  must  follow  either 
that  the  triangle  already  necessarily  exists,  or  that  it 
was  impossible  for  it  ever  to  exist.  This  is  self- 
evident.  It  follows  from  this  that  a thing  exists 
necessarily  when  there  is  no  cause  or  reason  to  pre- 
vent or  annul  its  existence.  If,  therefore,  no  cause 
can  be  assigned  that  would  prevent  or  destroy  the 
existence  of  God,  it  is  absolutely  to  be  concluded  that 
God  exists  necessarily.  But  if  any  such  cause  or 
reason  could  be  given,  it  would  have  to  be  found 
either  in  the  nature  of  God  or  out  of  it ; that  is — it 
would  have  to  be  found  in  another  substance  of  a 
different  nature ; for  to  imagine  it  in  a substance  of 
the  same  nature  would  be  to  concede  the  existence 
of  God.  But  substance  of  another  nature  could  have 
nothing  in  common  with  God  (by  Prop.  2),  and  so 


14 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


could  iieitlier  be  tlie  cause  of  God’s  existence  nor 
destroy  it.  Since,  therefore,  there  cannot  be  found 
out  of  or  extraneous  to  God  any  cause  or  reason 
which  abrogates  or  destroys  the  Divine  existence, 
such  cause  or  reason  does  not  exist,  or  else  it  must  be 
found  in  God — which  involves  a manifest  contradic- 
tion. But  it  is  absurd  to  affirm  a contradiction  in  the 
absolutely  infinite  and  consummately  perfect  Being. 
Therefore,  as  there  is  neither  in  God  nor  out  of  God 
any  cause  or  reason  that  can  abrogate  or  destroy 
the  Divine  existence,  it  follows  that  God  exists  neces- 
sarily. Q.  E.  H. 

Dehoxstr.  3. — Xot  to  be  able  to  exist,  implies  im- 
potence ; and  on  the  contrary,  to  be  able  to  exist, 
implies  power.  (This  is  obvious.)  If,  therefore,  that 
which  exists  necessarily  comprised  finite  beings  only, 
it  would  follow  that  finite  beings  were  more  powerful 
than  the  absolutely  infinite  Being,  which  (obviously) 
is  absurd.  Therefore,  either  nothing  exists,  or  else  the 
absolutely  infinite  Being  exists  necessarily.  But  we 
exist  either  in  ourselves,  or  in  something  else  which 
exists  necessarily  {mde  Ax.  1 and  Prox).  7).  There- 
fore, an  absolutely  infinite  Being,  that  is  (by  Def.  6), 
God,  exists  necessarily,  q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL. — In  this  last  demonstration  I desired  to 
show  the  existence  of  God  d posteriori^  in  order  that 
the  demonstration  might  be  more  easily  perceived, 
and  not  because  the  existence  of  God  does  not  also 
follow  d priori  from  the  very  same  grounds.  For  as 
ability  to  exist  is  a power,  it  follows  that  the  more  of 
reality  the  nature  of  anything  possesses,  the  more 
]30wer  it  has  of  itself  to  exist ; and  consequently  the 
absolutely  infinite  Being,  or  God,  has  an  absolutely 
infinite  xiower  of  existence,  and  therefore  exists  abso- 
lutely or  necessarily.  And  yet  some,  perchance,  may 


PART  I. — OF  GOD. 


1.5 


not  readily  perceive  tlie  clearness  of  this  demonstra- 
tion, because  they  are  accustomed  to  contemplate 
those  things  only  that  result  from  external  causes  ; 
and  because  they  see  that  that  which  grows  quickly 
— that  is  to  say,  which  exists  easily,  perishes  just  as 
quickly  and  easily ; whilst,  on  the  contrary,  those 
things  which  they  judge  to  be  formed  with  more 
difficulty — that  is,  which  exist  not  so  readily  or 
easily,  they  conceive  to  have  more  endurance.  To 
free  these  persons  from  such  prejudices,  I do  not 
think  there  is  need  to  show  here  for  what  reason  the 
homely  adage — ‘^soon  ripe,  soon  rotten”  {quod  cito 
jit^  cito  peril) — is  true,  nor  yet  to  consider  whether, 
in  respect  to  nature  at  large,  all  things  exist  with  ' 
equal  facility,  or  otherwise.  It  will  suffice  merely  to 
remark  that  I do  not  speak  here  of  things  produced 
by  external  causes,  but  of  substance  only,  which  (by 
Proj).  6)  can  be  produced  by  no  external  cause.  For 
things  that  are  produced  by  external  causes,  whether 
they  are  composed  of  many  or  of  few  parts,  owe  all 
that  they  have  of  perfection  or  reality  to  the  virtue  of 
the  cause  which  produced  them,  so  that  their  exis- 
tence depends  on  the  perfection  of  the  external  cause 
alone,  and  does  not  arise  from  the  things  themselves. 

On  the  contrary,  whatever  perfection  substance  may 
have  is  due  to  no  external  cause.  Wherefore  its  ex- 
istence must  follow  from  its  own  nature,  and  conse- 
quently is  nothing  else  than  its  very  essence.  Per- 
fection, therefore,  does  not  destro}^  the  existence  of  a 
thing,  but  affirms  it ; imperfection,  on  the  contrary, 
destroys  it  ; so  that  there  is  not  anything  of  whose 
existence  we  can  be  more  certain  than  of  the  existence 
of  the  absolutely  infinite  and  perfect  Being,  to  wit, 

God  ; for  inasmuch  as  the  essence  of  God  excludes 
all  imperfection,  and  involves  all  i)erfection  abso- 


16 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


lutely,  every  cause  for  doubt  of  God’s  existence  dis- 
appears, and  we  have  the  highest  possible  certitude 
of  it — which  I believe  will  be  clear  to  every  one  who 
gives  the  subject  even  a moderate  degree  of  attention. 

PROP.  XII. — Xo  one  can  properly  conceive  any 
attribute  of  substance  from  which  it  could 
follow  that  substance  might  be  divisible. 

Demoxstu. — For  the  parts  into  which  substance 
might  be  conceived  to  be  divided  would  either  retain 
the  nature  of  substance  or  they  would  not.  If  they 
did,  then  (by  Prop.  8)  each  part  would  be  infinite  and 
(b}'  Proj).  6)  cause  of  itself,  and  (b}^  Prop.  5)  consti- 
tuted by  a different  attribute  ; so  that  out  of  one  sub- 
stance several  might  be  constituted,  which  (by  Prop. 
6)  is  absurd.  Add  to  this  : that  these  parts  (by  Prop. 
2)  would  have  nothing  in  common  with  the  whole 
which  the}^  comjDosed,  and  that  the  whole  (by  Def. 
4 and  Prop.  10)  without  its  parts  would  exist  and  be 
conceivable  as  existing,  and  3^011  have  a consequence 
the  absurdity  of  which  no  one  will  doubt.  In  the 
second  case — that  is,  if  the  parts  did  not  retain  the 
nature  of  substance,  then*  if  the  whole  of  substance 
were  divided  into  equal  parts  it  would  lose  the  nature 
of  substance  and  cease  to  be,  which  (by  Prop.  7)  is 
absurd. 

PROP.  XIII. — The  absolute!}^  infinite  substance 
is  indivisible. 

Demoxstk. — For  if  it  were  divisible,  the  parts  into 
which  it  was  divided  would  either  retain  the  nature 
of  absolutely  infinite  substance  or  thejr  would  not. 
In  the  first  case,  there  would  then  be  several  sub- 
stances of  the  same  nature,  which  (by  Prop.  5)  is 


* PAET  I. — OF  GOD. 


17 


absurd.  If  tlie  second  case  is  supposed,  then  (as 
shown  above)  the  absolutely  intinite  substance  would 
cease  to  be,  which  (by  Proj).  11)  is  also  absurd. 

Coroll. — It  follows  from  this  that  no  substance, 
and  consequently  no  corporeal  substance,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  substance,  is  divisible, 

SciiOL. — That  substance  is  indivisible  will  perliajis 
be  more  plainly  understood  by  this  alone : that  the 
nature  of  substance  cannot  be  conceived  save  as  in- 
tinite, and  that  by  a part  of  substance  nothing  else 
could  be  understood  than  a Unite  substance,  which 
(by  Froj).  8)  manifestly  implies  a contradiction. 

* PROP.  XIY. — There  cannot  be,  nor  be  conceiv- 
ed to  be,  any  other  substance  besides  God. 

Dexoxstr. — Since  God  is  the  absolutely  infinite 
Being  to  which  no  attribute  that  expresses  the  es- 
sence of  substance  can  be  denied  (by  Def.  6),  and  as 
this  substance  exists  necessarily  (by  Prop.  11),  did 
any  other  substance  exist  besides  God  it  Avould  have 
to  be  explained  by  some  attribute  of  God,  aud  thus 
tvvm  substances  with  the  same  attribute  would  exist, 
which  (by  Prop.  5)  is  absurd.  Xo  substance  othei* 
than  God,  therefore,  can  exist,  and  consequently  can- 
not be  conceived.  For  if  it  could  be  conceived,  it 
must  necessarily  be  conceived  as  existing,  and  this 
(by  the  first  part  of  this  demonstration)  is  absurd. 
Therefore  no  substance  other  than  God  can  exist  or 
be  conceived  as  existing,  q.  f.  d. 

Coroll.  1. — From  this  it  follows  very  clearly  : 1st. 
That  God  is  one — that  is  (by  Def.  6),  in  the  nature  of 
things  there  can  be  but  one  substance,  and  that  is 
absolutely  infinite,  as  shown  in  the  Scholium  to  the 
10th  Proposition. 

3 


18 


spixoza’s  ethics.  • 


Coroll.  2. — It  follows,  2d.  That  the  thing  extended 
and  the  thiiig  thinldng  are  attributes  of  God,  or  (by 
Ax.  1)  affections  of  attributes  of  God. 

PEOP.  XV. — Whatever  is,  is  in  God ; and  nothing 
can  be,  nor  be  conceived  to  be,  without  God. 

Demoxstr.— Out  of  God  there  does  not  exist  nor 
can  there  be  conceived  any  substance  (by  Prop.  14) ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Def.  3),  there  is  nothing  (out  of 
God)  which  exists  in  itself  and  is  conceived  by  itself. 
Modes,  also  (by  Def.  5),  cannot  be  nor  be  conceived 
to  exist  without  substance  ; wherefore  they  are  in 
the  Divine  nature  alone,  and  can  be  conceived  by  and 
through  it  alone.  But  there  is  nothing  besides  sub- 
stance and  inodes  (by  Ax.  1}.  Therefore  nothing  can 
l)e,  nor  be  conceived  to  be,  without  God.  q.  e.  n. 

SciiOL. — By  some  persons  God  is  often  imagined  as 
a Being  consisting,  like  man,  of  a body  and  mind,  and 
subject,  like  man,  to  passions.  The  demonstrations 
already  given  are  sufficient  to  show  how  remote  such 
thoughts  are  from  a true  knowledge  of  God.  But  I 
pass  this  by  ; for  all  who  have  ever  contemplated  the 
Divine  nature  in  any  proper  method  deny  that  God 
is  coriioreal — a truth  which  is  excellently  proven  by 
this : that  by  body  we  understand  a certain  quantity 
liaving  length,  breadth,  and  thickness,  and  bounded 
])y  a definite  outline  or  figure,  which  cannot  be  said 
of  God,  the  absolutely  infinite  Being,  without  the 
utmost  absurdity.  But  from  other  reasons  adduced 
by  those  who  have  such  a conception  of  God  in  their 
endeavors  to  demonstrate  it,  they  clearly  show  that 
in  their  view  corporeal  or  extended  substance  is  en- 
tirely separate  from  the  Divine  nature,  and  they 
maintain  that  it  was  created  by  God.  By  wliat 


PAET  I. — OF  GOD. 


19 


Divine  poAver  created,  lioweA^er,  they  are  Avliolly 
ignorant,  which  sufficiently  sIioaa’s  that  they  them- 
seDes  do  not  understand  wdiat  they  say.  But  I,  in 
my  oAvn  opinion  at  least,  liaA^e  demonstrated  clearly 
enough  {vAde  Coroll,  to  Prop.  6 and  Schol.  2 to  Prop. 
8)  that  no  substance  can  be  created  or  produced  by 
another  substance.  Moreover,  it  is  shoAvn  by  Proi^o- 
sition  14  that  no  other  substance  besides  CtocI  can  ex- 
ist or  be  conceived  to  exist ; and  hence  we  have  con- 
cluded that  extended  substance  is  one  of  the"  infinite 
attributes  of  ^Ddr'”''Bufpm  order  that  it  may  be  more 
fully  explained,  I shall  here  refute  the  arguments  of 
opponents,  all  of  Avhich  may  be  rediu'ed  to  these  : 
First.  Thex  say  that  corporeal  substance,  considered 
as  substance,  consists;  of  oji4^  madtTTfp  of  parts^and 
theretore  they  deny  that  these  parts  cnn  oe’Ttffinite 
and^  pertain  to  (dod.  This  they  exi3lain  by  many 
examples,  one  oFfvvo  of  which  I shall  here  examine. 
If  corporeal  substance  be  infinite,  say  they,  let  us 
conceive  it  diAuded  into  tAvo  parts.  Then  each  part 
Avill  either  be  finite  or  infinite.  If  finite,  then  the 
infinite  Avill  be  composed  of  tAvo  finite  parts,  AAhich  is 
absurd.  If  infinite,  then  there  Avill  be  one  infinite 
tAAUce  as  great  as  another  infinite,  AAhich  is  equally 
absurd.  Moreover,  if  an  infinite  quantity  Avere  to  be 
measured  by  parts  equal  to  feet.,  it  Avould  be  com- 
posed of  an  infinite  number  of  such  parts,  just  as  it 


Avould  be  if  it  AA^ere  measured 
by  parts  equal  to  inches; 
and  consequently  one  infinite 
number  Avould  be  tAvelve 
times  greater  than  another 


A 


c infinite  number.  Lastly,  if 


from  a point.  A,  in  any  infinite  extent,  AA^e  conceive 
tAvo  diverging  lines,  A B and  A C,  to  be  draAAm  and 


20 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


liroducecl  indefinitely,  it  is  certain  that  tlie  dis- 
tance bet^Yeen  B and  C will  increase  continually,  and 
f roni  being  determinate  it  will  become  indeterminable. 
Since,  therefore,  such  absurdities  follow,  as  our  op- 
ponents say,  from  quantit}^  being  supposed  infinite, 
the}^  conclude  that  corporeal  substance  must  be  finite, 
and  consequently  that  it  cannot  pertain  to  the  essence 
of  God. 

Their  second  argument  is  drawn  from  the  supreme 
perfection  of  God.  For  God,  say  they,  being  a su- 
premely perfect  Being,  cannot  suffer.  But  corporeal 
substance,  inasmuch  as  it  is  divisible,  can  suffer ; it 
follows  therefore  that  it  cannot  pertain  to  the  essence 
of  God. 

Such,  I find,  are  the  arguments  by  which  writers 
endeavor  to  show  that  corporeal  substance  is  un- 
worthy of  the  Divine  nature,  and  cannot  therefore 
belong  to  it.  But  if  strict  attention  has  been  given 
it  will  be  seen  that  I have  already  ansAvered  all  such 
arguments  as  these,  inasmuch  as  they  are  all  based 
solely  on  the  suj)position  that  corporeal  substance  is 
composed  of  parts,  which  (by  Prop.  12  and  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  13)  I have  shown  to  be  absurd.  Again,  who- 
ever properly  considers  the  matter  will  perceive  that 
.all  the  absurdities  (if,  indeed,  all  are  absurd,  which  I 
do  not  dispute)  from  which  they  conclude  that  ex- 
tended substance  is  finite,  do  by  no  means  follow  from 
quantity  being  supposed  infinite,  but  from  the  sup- 
j position  that  infinite  quantity  is  mensurable  and  com- 
! posed  of  finite  parts.  Whereas  these  absurd  su impo- 
sitions, and  the  inferences  that  follow  from  them,  can 
lead  to  no  other  conclusion  than  that  infinite  quantity 
is  not  mensurable,  and  that  it  cannot  be  composed  of 
finite  parts.  And  this  is  precisely  what  we  liave 
.already  demonstrated  (Prop.  12,  etc.)  The  weapon 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


21 


therefore  liiiiied  against  us  has  returned  upon  them- 
selres.  If,  therefore,  from  the  absurdities  which  are 
their  own  work,  they  still  persist  in  maintaining  that 
extended  substance  must  be  finite,  they  take  nx)on 
themselves  a no  less  herculean  labor  than  would  he 
Avho  should  fancy  that  a circle  had  the  properties  of 
a square,  and  then  maintain  that  a circle  has  no  cen- 
tral point  from  which  all  lines  drawn  to  the  circum- 
ference are  equal.  For  corporeal  substance,  which  can 
be  conceived  only  as  infinite,  only  as  one,  and  only  as 
indivisible  {vide  ProiDS.  8,  5,  and  12),  they,  in  order  to 
maintain  their  conclusion,- have  to  conceive  as  finite, 
as  composed  of  finite  parts,  as  multiple,  and  as  divis- 
ible ; in  the  same  way  as  other  reasoners,  who,  after 
imagining  a line  to  be  composed  of  points,  know  how 
to  invent  arguments  to  show  that  it  cannot  be  divis- 
ible to  infinity.  And,  indeed,  it  is  no  less  absurd  to 
maintain  that  corporeal  substance  is  composed  of 
bodies  or  of  parts  than  it  is  that  a body  is  comi)osed 
of  superficies,  superficies  of  lines,  and,  finally,  the 
lines  of  points.  And  this  all  must  admit  who  know 
right  reason  to  be  infallible  ; and,  above  all,  those 
who  deny  a vacuum  in  nature.  For  if  corporeal  sub- 
stance could  be  divided  in  such  a way  that  the  parts 
would  be  really  distinct  from  each  other,  why  might 
not  one  part  be  annihilated,  and  the  other  remaining 
parts  be  connected  with  one  another  as  before  ? And 
why  should  all  the  parts  adax)t  and  fit  themselves  to 
each  other  in  such  a way  that  there  could  be  no 
vacuum?  Certainly  when  things  are  really  distinct 
from  each  other,  one  may  exist  without  the  other  and 
continue  in  its  state  of  being.  Since,  then,  there  is 
no  vacuum  in  nature  (of  which  I shall  say  more  in 
another  place),  all  its  parts  concurring  in  such  wise 
that  there  shall  be  none,  hence  it  follows  that  these 


22 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


parts  cannot  really  be  clistingnislied  ; in  otlier  words, 
tliat  corporeal  substance,  as  substance,  cannot  be 
divided. 

Still,  if  it  slionld  be  asked  : Why  are  we  naturally 
so  much  disposed  to  believe  that  quantity  is  divisible  ? 
I answer,  b@etr(ise^nantity-4s- -conceived  by  ns  in 

p^wo  ways-4abstractly,^lmd  QnperfiyhiIL^,Wiz,aas  snb- 
iK  is;  iimno-inpyO:  and^S  SllbstaPCe^jll^h^ S 

,j^^an  be  conc^v  ed:  b^^he  nn3er s tand big ^ona^^f 
we  think  of  qiiEnfify  as  the  iniagina'Cidir^resents  it 
to  ns — as  we  constant!}^  and  most  easily  do — it  ajopears 
to  ns  to  be  finite,  divisible,  and  composed  of  parts  ; but 
if  we  consider  it  as  it  is  conceived  by  the  understand- 
ing, and  as.  it  is  substance — which  it  is  very  diflicnlt 
to  do — we  will  then  discover  it  to  be,  as  we  have  suf- 
ficiently demonstrated,  infinite,  one,  and  indivisible. 
This  will  he  evident  enough  to  those  who  know  how 
to  distinguish  between  imagination  and  understand- 
ing ; and  especially  if  they  will  keep  in  mind  the  fact 
that  matter  is  everywhere  the  same,  and  that  there  is 
no  distinction  of  parts  in  it,  except  in  so  far  as  mat- 
ter is  conceived  to  be  affected  in  various  Avays,  where- 
by it  comes  to  pass  that  its  jiarts  are  distinguished  in 
respect  of  modes  only,  but  not  in  respect  of  reality. 
Water,  for  example,  considered  as  water,  is  concent- 
able  to  be  dhdsible,  and  its  parts  separable  from  each 
other ; but  it  is  not  so  when  it  is  considered  as  cor- 
poreal substance.  For  in  that  respect  it  is  neither 
divisible  nor  separable.  Moreover,  Avater,  as  Avater,  is 
produced  and  corruptible  ; but  as  substance  it  is 
neither  producible  nor  corruptible. 

And  noAv  it  seems  to  me  that  I liaA^e  also  replied  to 
the  second  argument  of  our  opponents,  inasmuch  as 
it,  too,  is  based  on  the  assumption  that  matter,  con- 
sidered as  substance,  is  dhusible  and  made  uii  of 


PAET  T.— OF  GOD. 


2;; 

parts.  And  tliougli  this  were  not  so,  I knoAv  not  why. 
matter  should  be  considered  unworthy  of  the  Divine' 
nature,  seeing  that  out  of  God  (by  ProiTmjdhere^fhii 
be  no  substance  by  which  tlie  Di;vjne  nature  can  be 
affecteil.  ATTTFiTngs^  I say,  are'Tr^  GdZI7^d--4^4b^^ 
happens,  happens  by  the  laws  of  the  inhnite  nature' 
of  God  alone,  and  follows  (as  I shall  soon  show)  from 
the  necessity  of  God's  essence.  There  can  be  no 
reason,  therefore,  to  sa}"  that  G^>r1  sufferer  be- 
affected  by  anything  ; or  thal^^xtended  snbstan^  is 
unworthy  of  the  Divine  natureTeveh^tdroug^TT^^ 
be  supposed  to  be  divisible — provided  only  that  it  is 
admitted  to  be  eternal  and  infinite.  But  of  this  mat- 
ter enough  for  the  present. 

PKOP.  XVI. — Prom  the  necessity  of  the  Divim* 
nature  there  must  follo^v  an  infinity  of 
things  in  infinite  modes  (that  is  to  say,  all 
that  can  come  under  an  infinite  intelli- 
. gence). 

Demonstr. — This  proposition  must  be  obvious  to 
whoever  will  for  a moment  consider  that  from  the 
definition  of  each  individual  thing  the  understanding 
infers  a number  of  properties,  which,  indeed,  neces- 
sarily follow  from  the  thing  defined  (that  is,  they  fol- 
low from  the  very  essence  of  the  thing  itself)  ; and 
these  properties  are  so  much  the  more  numerous  as 
the  reality  expressed  in  the  definition  is  greater — that 
is,  as  the  essence  of  the  thing  defined  involves  more 
of  reality.  ISow,  as  the  Divine  nature  possesses  abso- 
lutely infinite  attributes  (by  Def.  6),  each  of  which 
expresses  an  essence  infinite  in  its  kind,  therefore, 
and  by  the  necessity  of  the  Divine  nature,  there  must 
necessarily  follow  an  infinity  of  things  in  infinite 


24 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


inodes  (that  is  to  say,  all  that  ran  come  under  infinite 
intelligence).  Q.  e.  h. 

CoPvOLL.  1. — Hence  it  follows  that  God  is  the  Effi- 
cient Cause  of  all  that  can  come  under  the  infinite  in- 
telligence. 

CoKOLL.  2. — It  follows,  2d,  that  God  is  this  Cause 
itself  (jper  se) ; not,  how^ever,  by  chance,  accident,  or 
contingency  (]per  accidens ). 

Copoll.  3. — And,  3d,  that  God  is  absolutely  First 
Cause. 


IHIOP.  XYII. — God  acts  by  the  sole  laws  of  the 
Divine  nature,  and  is  constrained  by  noth- 
ing. 

Hemonstr. — It  is  by  the  sole  necessit}^  of  the  Divine 
nature,  or  (which  is  the  same  thing)  by  the  sole  laws 
of  that  nature,  that  infinities  follow  absolutely,  as  we 
have  shown  in  Proj).  16  ; and  we  have  demonstrated 
in  Proj).  15  that  nothing  can  be  or  be  conceived  to  be 
without  God,  but  that  all  things  are  in  God.  Where- 
fore, there  can  be  nothing  out  of  God  whereby  God 
(nn  be  determined  or  constrained  to  act ; conse- 
quently, God  acts  by  the  sole  laws  of  the  Divine 
nature,  and  without  being  constrained  by  anything. 

Q.  E.  D. 

CoKOLL.  1. — It  follows  from  this  : 1.  That  no  cause 
inciting  or  moving  God  to  action  exists,  either  ex- 
trinsically  or  intrinsically,  beyond  the  perfection  of 
the  Divine  nature. 

CoiiOLL.  2. — It  follows  : 2.  That  God  alone  is  a Free 
Cause  ; for  God  exists  by  the  sole  necessity  of  the 
Divine  nature  (by  Prop.  11  and  Coroll.  1 to  Prop.  14), 
and,  by  the  sole  necessity  of  the  same,  acts  (by  lire- 


PAET  I— OF  GOD. 


25 


ceding  Prop.),  and  so  (by  Def.  7)  is  alone  free  cause 
of  all.  Q.  E.  D. 

ScnoL. — Some  tliink  God  is  free  canse  of  all,  be- 
cause tliey  believe  it  possible  for  God  to  make  the 
things  which  follow  from  the  Divine  nature — that  is, 
which  are  in  God’ s power — not  come  to  x^ass,  or  not 
be  x^i’oduced.  But  this  were  the  same  as  saying  that 
God  might  have  so  ordered  it  that  from  the  nature  of 
a triangle  it  should  not  follow  that  its  three  angles 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles  ; or  that  from  a given 
canse  no  effect  should  follow,  which  is  absurd.  For 
further  on,  and  index)endently  of  the  Prox)osition  now 
in  hand,  I show  that  neither  understanding  nor  will 
X)ertain  to  the  nature  of  God.  I know  that  many 
think  they  can  demonstrate  that  supreme  intelligence 
and  free-will  belong  to  the  nature  of  God  ; for,  say 
they,  we  know  of  nothing  more  x^crfect  that  may  be 
ascribed  to  God  than  that  which  is  the  highest  x^er- 
fection  in  ourselves.  Moreover,  although  they  con- 
ceive God  as  acting  with  the  highest  intelligence,  yet 
they  do  not  believe  that  everything  has  been  called 
into  being  that  is  comx3rised  in  the  intelligence  of 
God  ; for  they  think  that  by  such  a belief  they  would 
be  disxtaraging  the  x^ower  of  God.  Had  God  created, 
say  thejq  everything  that  was  in  the  Divine  mind, 
there  would  remain  nothing  more  to  create ; which 
they  think  rextugnant  to  God’ s omnix^otence.  They 
have  x^referred,  therefore,  to  consider  God  as  indiffer- 
ent to  all  things,  and  creating  nothing  beyond  that 
which  God  by  a certain  absolute  will  determined  to 
create.  But  I think  I have  shown  clearly  enough 
i^ride  Prox3.  16)  that  from  the  sux^reme  x^ower  or  inh- 
]iite  nature  of  God  there  has  followed  an  infinity  of 
things  in  infinite  modes  ; in  other  words,  that  aii 
things  have  fiowed  necessarily,  and  for  ever  How  by 


26 


SPI]ST0ZA’s  ethics. 


tlie  same  necessity,  and  in  the  same  way,  as  from  the 
nature  of  the  triangle  it  follows,  and  will  for  all  eter- 
nity follow,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right  angles.  ^Vherefore  the  omnipotence  of  God  in 
act  Avas  from  eternity,  and  eternally  will  remain  in 
actuality  the  same.  In  this  Avay,  it  seems  to  me,  the 
omnipotence  of  God  is  more  perfectly  stated  than  in 
any  other.  Bnt,  really,  the  opponents  of  this  view 
(if  I am  permitted  to  speak  plainly)  appear  to  deny 
the  omnipotence  of  God.  For  they  are  obliged  to 
alloAv  that  God  had  knoAAdedge  of  an  infinity  of  cre- 
atable  things  AAdiich,  nevertheless,  Avere  never  created  ; 
for,  otherwise,  if  all  had  been  created  that  infinite  un- 
derstanding or  intelligence  conceived,  omnipotency 
Avonld  have  been  exhausted  and  God  rendered  imper- 
fect. So  that  to  maintain  God  perfect,  they  Avonld 
be  forced  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  that  God  did 
not  do  all  that  aa^s  AAdthin  the  range  of  infinite  poAver  ; 
AAdiich  seems  more  absurd,  and  more  repugnant  to  the 
idea  of  omnipotency  of  God,  than  almost  anything 
that  can  be  imagined. 

Moreover — and  that  I may  also  say  something  here 
of  the  understanding  and  AAdll  AAdiich  are  commonly 
ascribed  to  God — I remark  that  if  under  stand  iufj 
and  will  belong  to  the  eternal  essence  or  nature  of 
God,  Ave  must  then  understand  by  each  of  these  attri- 
butes something  quite  diiferent  from  AAdiat  is  com- 
monly understood  by  them  ; for  the  understanding 
and  Avill  AAdiich  constitute  the  essence  of  God  must 
differ  lolo  coelo  from  our  human  under sUinding  and 
leill^  and  could  not  agree  in  anything  bnt  the  name — 
just  as  the  Bog,  a sign  in  the  lieaA^ens,  and  the  dog,  a 
barking  animal  on  the  earth,  agree  Avith  each  other. 
I demonstrate  this  as  folloAvs  : If  understanding  be- 
longs to  the  Bivine  nature,  it  cannot,  like  our  under- 


PAIIT  I. — OF  GOD. 


27 


standing,  be  posterior  to  (as  most  are  pleased  to 
tliink),  or  simultaneous  in  nature  with  the  things 
understood,  inasmuch  as  God,  as  Causality,  is  i3ri{)r 
to  all  things  (by  Coroll.  1,  Prop.  16) ; but,  on  the 
contrary,  the  formal  essence  and  reality  of  things  are 
such  as  they  are  because  they  existed  objectively 
such  as  they  are  in  the  understanding  of  God. 
Wherefore  the  understanding  of  God,  in  so  far  as  it 
is  conceived  as  constituting  the  essence  of  God,  is 
verily  the  cause  of  all  things — of  their  essence  as  well 
as  of  their  existence ; a truth  which  seems  to  have 
been  perceived  by  those  also  who  have  maintained 
that  the  understanding,  the  will,  and  the  power  of 
God  are  one  and  the  same  thing.  If,  then,  the  intel- 
ligence or  understanding  of  God  is  the  sole  cause  of 
things— that  is  (as  we  have  shown),  of  tlieir  essence 
as  well  as  of  their  existence. — it  must  necessaril3* 
differ  from  them  in  respect  both  of  essence  and  exist- 
ence ; for  that  which  is  caused,  differs  from  its  cause 
precisely  in  that  which  it  has  from  its  cause.  For 
example : one  man  is  cause  of  the  existence  of  an- 
other man,  but  not  of  his  essence,  for  his  essence  is 
an  eternal  verity  ; consequently,  the  two  men  may 
agree  completely  in  respect  of  essence,  but  in  respect 
of  existence  they  must  differ  ; and  therefore  one  of 
them  may  cease  to  exist  without  the  existence  of  the 
other  being  also  terminated ; but  if  the  essence  of 
one  of  them  could  be  destroyed  or  changed,  the  es- 
sence of  the  other  would  be  destroyed  or  changed 
also.  Wherefore,  the  thing  Vvdiich  is  the  cause  both 
of  the  essence  and  existence  of  an  effect  must  differ 
from  such  effect  in  respect  of  essence  as  well  as  of 
existence.  Now,  the  intelligence  or  understanding  of 
God  is  the  cause  both  of  the  essence  and  existence  of 
oui*  human  understanding  ; therefore  the  intelligence 


28 


spixoza's  ethics. 


of  God,  conceived  as  constituting  the  Divine  esseiice, 
differs  from  human  intelligence  both  in  resjiect  of 
essence  and  of  existence,  and  can  agree  with  it  in  no- 
thing except  the  name,  as  we  wished  to  show.  Every 
one  will  readily  see  that  in  regard  to  the  will  of 
God,  the  demonstration  would  jiroceed  in  the  same 
way.* 

PKOP.  XTIII. — God  is  the  immanent  cause  of 
all  things,  and  not  transitive  cause. 

Demoxstu. — Whatever  is,  is  in  God,  and  must  be 
conceived  through  God  (by  Proii.  15) ; and  so  (by 
Coroll.  1,  Prox).  6)  all  things  that  are  in  God  are 
caused  by  God.  This  is  the  first  xioint.  Again,  there 
can  be  no  substance  out  of  or  extraneous  to  God  (by 
Proxi.  14) ; that  is  to  say  (by  Def.  3),  nothing  which 
exists  of  itself,  out  of  God.  This  is  the  second  x^oint. 
Therefore,  God  is  the  immanent,  not  transitive,  cause 
of  all  things,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XIX. — God,  or  all  the  attributes  of 
God,  are  eternal. 

Demoxstu. — For  God  (by  Def.  6)  is  substance, 
which  (by  Prox^.  11)  exists  necessarily — that  is  to  say 
(by  Proxi.  7),  existence  belongs  to  the  nature  of  God 
or  Substance,  or  (which  is  the  same  thing)  existence 
folloAvs  from  the  very  definition  of  substance  ; so  that 
(by  Def.  8)  God  is  eternal.  Again,  by  attributes  of 
God  we  understand  that  which  (by  Def.  4)  exx3resses 
the  essence  of  the  Divine  Substance  ; in  other  Avords, 
that  AAdiich  belongs  to  substance,  and  Avhich,  I say, 
must  itself  involve  its  attributes.  Xoaa",  eternity  be- 
longs to  the  nature  of  substance  (as  demonstrated  by 
Proxi.  7).  Therefore  each  attribute  of  substance  must 


PART  I. — OF  OOI). 


29 


involve  eternity,  and  consequently  all  its  attiibntf^s 
ai'e  eternal,  q.  k.  d. 

SoiioL. — The  truth  of  this  Ih'oposition  also  a|)i)ears 
v(*ry  clearly  from  the  way  in  which  I have  demon- 
strated (in  Prop.  11)  th(i  existencr;  of  (lod.  fn  that 
demonstration  I have  shown  tliat  the  existence  as 
well  as  the  essence  of  God  ai'e  (deiTial  truths.  T have 
also  demf)nstrated  the  eternity  of  God  in  aiiotlu*]* 
way,  in  another  work  { Prirceipu/rvm  l*hilosopJt ur, 
(Uirtes^  Prop.  19,  J^ars  1),  which  it  is  not  Avoi-th 
while  to  rex^eat  here. 

IMIOP.  XX. — Tlic  existence  and  essence  of  (iod 
jire  one  and  tlie  same. 

])kmonstj{. — God  and  all  the  attributes  of  God  are 
eternal  (by  preceding  Prop.) ; -that  is  (by  i)(*f.  8),  each 
of  the  attributes  of  God  expresses  existence.  The' 
same  attribute  of  God,  therefore,  which  (by  I)ef.  4j  ex- 
presses the  eternal  essence,  also  ex])resses  at  the  same 
S time  the  eternal  existence  of  God — in  other  woi-ds, 

that  which  constitutes  the  essence  constitutes  at  the 
same  time  the  existence  of  God  ; so  that  the  essence) 
and  existence  of  God  are  one  and  the  same.  q.  i:.  n. 

CoiiOLL.  1. — Hence  it  follows  : 1.  That  the  existence 
as  well  as  the  essence  of  God  is  an  eternal  truth. 

Coroll.  2.— It  follows : 2.  That  God,  or  all  the  at- 
tributes of  God,  are  immutable.  For  if  they  wei-e 
changed  in  resi)ect  of  existence,  they  would  also  (by 
])feceding  Prop.)  be  changed  in  respect  of  essence  ; 
that  is  TO  say,  from  being  truths  they  would  be 
changed  to  falsehoods,  which  is  absurd. 

PROP.  XXI. — All  that  follows  from  the  ab- 
solute nature  of  any  attribute  of  God  must 


80 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


liave  existed  always  and  been  infinite,  or  is, 
by  the  same  attribute,  eternal  and  infinite. 

Demoxstr. — Conceiye,  if  it  be  possible  (should  this 
be  denied),  something  in  any  attribute  of  God  which 
follows  from  the  absolute  nature  of  that  attribute, 
and  which  is  finite  and  has  a determinate  existence  or 
duration ; for  example,  the  idea  of  God  in  the  attri- 
1)ute  of  Thought.  Xow,  thought,  supposed  as  an  at- 
tribute of  God,  is  (by  Prop.  11)  necessarily  infinite  by 
its  own  nature.  But  in  so  far  as  thought  is  restricted 
to  the  idea  of  God,  it  is  now  presumed  to  be  finite.  It 
cannot,  however  (by  Def.  2),  be  conceived  as  finite 
unless  it  is  determined  or  -limited  by  thought  itself. 
It  Avill  not,  however,  be  limited  by  thought  itself,  as 
constituting  the  idea  of  God  ; for  then,  by  hypo- 
thesis, thought  is  assumed  to  be  finite.  It  must,  there- 
fore, be  limited  by  thought  as  not  constituting  (or  not 
restricted  to)  the  idea  of  God,  which  (by  Prop.  11) 
must  3’et  and  necessarily  exist.  Thus,  therefore, 
there  will  be  thought  Avhich  does  not  constitute  the 
idea  of  God,  and  from  the  nature  of  which,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  absolute  thought,  the  idea  of  God  does  not 
necessarily  follow  (for  thought  is  conceived  both  as 
constituting  and  as  not  constituting  the  idea  of  God), 
which  is  against  the  hypothesis.  AYlierefore,  if  the 
idea  of  God  in  the  attribute  of  thought,  or  aught  in 
aii}^  other  attribute  of  God  (it  matters  not  what,  inas- 
much as  the  demonstration  is  universal),  follows  from 
the  necessity  of  the  absolute  nature  of  the  attribute, 
it  must  necessarily  be  infinite.  So  much  for  the  first 
point. 

Further,  that  which  thus  follows  from  the  necessity 
of  the  nature  of  any  attribute  cannot  have  a deter- 
minate duration.  If  this  be  denied,  suppose  some- 


PART  I. — OP  GOD. 


81 


tiling  in  an  attribute  of  God  wliicli  follows  from  the 
necessity  of  tlie  nature  of  that  attribute — for  ex- 
ample, the  idea  of  God  in, the  attribute  of  thought ; 
and  let  it  be  further  suxiposed  that  this  particular 
idea  has  not  always  existed  heretofore,  or  will  not 
always  exist  hereafter.  As  thought,  however,  is  as- 
sumed to  be  an  attribute  of  God,  it  must  exist  both 
necessarily  and  immutably  (by  Proj).  11  and  Coroll. 
2,  Prop.  20).  Wherefore,  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
duration  of  the  particular  idea  of  God  (for  it  is  as- 
sumed that  it  has  not  always  existed,  or  will  not 
always  exist),  thought  would  exist  without  the  idea 
of  God.  But  this  is  contrary  to  the  hypothesis  ; for 
thought  being  given,  it  is  assumed  that  the  idea  of 
God  follows  necessarily  from  the  nature  of  thought. 
Therefore  the  idea  of  God  in  thought,  and  anything 
else  that  follows  necessarily  from  the  absolute  nature 
of  any  attribute  of  God,  can  have  no  determinate 
duration,  but  is,  by  the  same  attribute,  eternal.  This 
is  the  second  point.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  .the  same 
is  to  be  affirmed  of  everything  which  in  any  attribute 
of  God  follows  necessarily  from  the  absolute  nature 
of  God.  • -■;( 


PROP.  XXII.^ — Wliatsoever  thing  folloAvs  from 
any  attribute  of  God,  in  so  far  as  it  is  mod- 
ified by  a mode  which  by  that  same  attri- 
bute exists  both  necessarily  and  infinitely, 
that  thing  must  also  exist  both  necessarily 
and  infinitely. 


Demoxstr. — The  demonstration  of  this  Proposition 
proceeds  in  the  same  way  as  that  of  the  preceding 
Proposition. 


32 


SPmOZA’S  ETHIC?. 


PKOP.  XXIII. — Every  mode  wliicli  exists  liotli 
necessarily  and  infinitely  must  necessarily 
follow  either  from  the  absolute  nature  of 
some  attribute  of  Grod,  or  from  some  attri- 
bute modified  by  a mode  which  exists  both 
necessarily  and  infinitely. 

Demoxstr. — For  mode  is  in  some  other  thing  by 
whicli  It  lias  to  be  conceived  (b}'  Def.  5) — that  is  (by 
Prop.  15),  it  is  in  God  alone,  and  can  be  conceived 
tlirongli  God  alone.  If  therefore  mode  be  conceived  to 
exist  necessarily  and  to  be  infinite,  this  in  either  case 
must  necessaril}^  be  perceived  through  some  attribute 
of  God,  in  so  far  as  that  attribute  itself  is  conceived 
to  express  infinity  and  necessity  of  existence,  or 
(which  is  the  Same  thing  by  Def.  8)  eternity  ; in 
other  words  (by  Def.  6 and  Prop.  19),  in  so  far  as  it 
is  considered  absolute!}".  A mode  therefore  Avhich 
exists  both  necessarily  and  infinitel}^  must  follow 
from  the  absolute  nature  of  some  attribute  of  God  ; 
and  this  either  immediately  (vide  Prop.  21)  or  medi- 
ately through  some  modification  which  itself  follows 
from  the  absolute  nature  of  that  attribute — that  is  (by 
preceding  Prop.),  Avhich  exists  both  necessarily  and 
infinitel}^  Q.  e.  d. 

PKOP.  XXIV. — The  essence  of  things  iiroduced 
by  God  does  not  involve  existence. 

DemoxstPv. — This  is  evident  from  Def.  1.  For  a 
thing  the  nature  of  wliich  (considered  in  itself)  in- 
volves existence,  is  cause  of  itself,  and  exists  by  the 
sole  necessity  of  its  nature. 

ConoLL. — It  follows  from  this  that  God  is  not  only 
the  cause  by  which  things  begin  to  exist,  but  also  the 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


33 


cause  by  wliicli  they  continue  in  existence  ; or  (to  nse 
a Scholastic  term)  Gfod  is  causa  ess  end  t — the  cause  of 
the  being  or  existence  of  things.  For  whether  things 
exist  or  do  not  exist,  when  we  consider  their  essence 
and  ascertain  that  it  involves  neither  existence  nor 
duration,  we  then  conclude  that  their  essence  cannot 
be  the  cause  either  of  their  existence  or  of  their  dura- 
tion, but  that  only  God,  to  whose  nature  alone  ex- 
istence belongs,  can  be  the  cause  (by  Coroll.  1,  Prop. 
14). 

PROP.  XXV. — God  is  not  only  the  efficient 
cause  of  the  existence  of  things,  but  also  of 
their  essence. 

Demoxstr. — If  you  deny  that  God  is  the  cause  of 
the  essence  of  things,  then  (by  Ax.  4)  the  essence  of 
things  can  be  conceived  without.  God  ; but  this  (by 
Prop.  15)  is  absurd.  God,  therefore,  is  the  cause  of 
the  essence  of  things,  q.  e.  d. 

Sciio'l. — This  Proposition  clearly  follows  from  Prop. 
16— by  which,  the  Divine  nature  being  assumed,  it 
follows  that  the  essence  as  well  as  the  existence  of 
things  must  necessarily  be  concluded  from  it  ; and  I 
may  say,  in  a word,  that  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
God  is  called  self-cause^  it  is  also  to  be  declared  that 
God  is  the  cause  of  all  things,  which  will  appear  still 
more  clearly  by  the  following  Corollary  : 

Coroll. — Particular  or  individual  things  are  noth- 
ing more  than  affections  of  the  attributes  of  God,  or 
modes  by  which  the  attributes  of  God  are  ex^^ressed 
in  certain  and  determinate  ways.  This  is  demonstrated 
by  Prop.  15  and  Def.  5. 

PROP.  XXVI. — A thing  that  is  determined  to 
l)erform  some  action  has  necessarily  been 

3 


34 


SPIXOZxV’s  ETHICS. 

SO  determined  by  God ; and  that  wliicli  is 
not  determined  by  God  cannot  determine 
itself  to  act. 

Demoxstr. — That  by  which  things  are  said  to  be 
determined  to  some  action  is  necessarily  something 
positive  (as  is  self-evident) ; and  so  by  the  necessity 
of  the  Divine  nature  God  is  the  efficient  cause  both 
of  the  existence  and  essence  of  the  action  (by  Props. 
25  and  16).  This  is  the  first  point.  IS'ow,  the  second 
is  a manifest  consequence  of  the  first.  For  if  a thing 
which  is  not  determined  by  God  to  act  conld  deter- 
mine itself,  the  first  part  of  this  demonstration  would 
he  false ; but  this,  as  we  have  shown,  is  absurd. 

Q.  E.  D. 

PEOP.  XXYII. — A thing  determined^ by  God 
to  some  action  cannot  render  itself  unde- 
termined. 

Demoxstr. — This  Proposition  is  manifest  by  Ax- 
iom 3. 

PEOP.  XXYIII. — The  individual  thing  that  is 
finite  and  has  a determinate  existence  can- 
not be  determined  to  exist  or  to  act  unless 
it  be  determined  to  exist  and  to  act  by  an- 
other cause  which  is  also  finite  and  pos- 
sessed of  a determinate  existence  ; and  this 
cause,  again,  cannot  exist  or  be  determined 
to  act  except  by  another  cause  which  is  also 
finite  and  has  a determinate  existence  ; and 
so  on  to  infinity. 

Demoxstr. — Whatever  is  determined  to  existence 


PART  I. — OF  GOD. 


35 


and  action  is  so  determined  by  God  (by  Pro^D.  26,  and 
Coroll.  Prop.  2-^).  But  that  which  is  tinite  and  has 
a determinate  existence  could  not  be  joroduced  by  the 
absolute  nature  of  any  attribute  of  God  ; for  what- 
ever follows  from  the  absolute  nature  of  any  attri- 
bute of  God  is  infinite  and  eternal  (by  Prop.  21).  It 
must  therefore  follow  from  God  or  some  attribute  of 
God  considered  as  affected  in  some  particular  way ; 
for  besides  substance  and  its  modes  there  is  no- 
thing (by  Ax.  1 and  Defs.  3 and  5),  and  modes  (by 
Coroll.  Prop.  25)  are  only  affections  of  the  attributes 
of  God.  But  neither  could  it  follow  from  God  or  an 
attribute  of  God  in  so  far  as  affected  by  a modifica- 
tion that  is  eternal  and  infinite  (by  Prop.  22).  There- 
fore it  must  follow  or  be  defbrmined  to  existence  and 
action  by  God  or  an  attribute  of  God  in  so  far  as  it 
is  affected  by  a modification  that  is  finite  and  has  a 
determinate  existence.  This  is  the  first  point.  Fur- 
ther, this  cause  or  this  mode,  again  (for  the  same 
reasons  as  in  the  first  part  of  this  demonstration), 
must  also  be  determined  by  anotlier  which  is  also 
finite  and  has  a determinate  existence  ; and  this  last, 
again,  by  yet  another  (for  the  same  reason)  ; and  so 
on  to  infinity.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — As  some  things  must  have  been  produced 
immediately  by  God — to  wit,  those  which  follow  ne- 
cessarily from  God’s  absolute  nature — and  from  these 
immediate  or  primary  things  those  mediately  which 
yet  can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be  without 
God,  it  therefore  follows : 1st,  that  God  is  the  abso- 
lute proximate  cause  of  these  things  immediately 
produced,  but  not,  however,  in  their  kinds,  as  is 
sometimes  said  ; for  an  effect  of  God  without  its 
cause  can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be  (by  Prop. 
15,  and  Coroll.  Prop.  24).  It  follows : 2d,  that  God 


86 


SPIIS’OZA’S  ethics. 


(Cannot  properly  be  called  tlie  remote  cause  of  indi- 
vidual tilings ; unless,  perchance,  for  the  purpose  of 
distinguishing  such  things  from  those  produced  im- 
mediately by,  or  rather  which  follow  from,  the  abso- 
lute nature  of  God.  For  by  remote  cause  we  under- 
stand such  a cause  as  is  in  no  way  conjoined  to  its 
etfect.  But  all  things  that  be  are  in  God,  and  depend 
on  God  in  such  a manner  that  they  cannot  be  nor  be 
conceived  to  be  without  God. 

PEOP.  XXIX. — In  the  nature  of  things  there  is 
nothing  contingent,  but  all  things  are  de- 
termined by  the  necessity  of  the  Divine 
nature  to  exist  and  to  act  in  a certain 
manner. 

Demoxste. — 'Whatever  is,  is  in  God  (by  Prop.  15). 
But  God  cannot  be  spoken  of  as  a contingent  thing, 
for  God  (by  Prop.  11)  exists  necessarily,  not  contin- 
gently. Further,  the  modes  of  the  Divine  nature, 
for  the  same  reason,  also  follow  necessarily,  not  con- 
tingently (by  Prop.  16) ; and  this  whether  they  be 
considered  as  determined  to  action  by  the  Divine 
nature  absolutely  (by  Prop.  21),  or  as  determined 
(mediatel}')  by  some  certain  mode  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture (by  Prop.  27).  Moreover,  God  is  not  only  the 
cause  of  these  modes  as  they  exist  simply  (by  Coroll. 
Prop.  24),  but  also  as  they  are  considered  to  be  deter- 
mined to  any  action  (by  Prop.  26).  Because  (by  same 
Prop.)  if  they  are  not  determined  by  God,  it  is  im- 
possible, not  contingent,  that  they  should  be  deter- 
mined by  themselves  ; and  on  the  contrary  (by  Prop. 
27),  if  they  are  determined  by  God,  it  is  impossible, 
not  contingent,  that  they  should  render  themselves 
undetermined. 


PART  I.  — OF  GOD. 


37 


Wherefore  all  things  are  determined  by  the  neces- 
sity of  the  Divine  nature  not  only  to  exist,  but  also 
to  exist  and  to  act  in  a certain  manner,  and  there  is 
nothing  contingent.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Before  proceeding  further,  I here  Avish  to 
explain,  or  rather  to  state,  Avhat  is  to  be  understood 
by  Natura  natitrans  and  Natura  naturata.  From 
all  that  has  been  previously  said,  I think  it  aauII  ap- 
pear that  by  the  expression  natura  naturans  is  to  be 
understood  that  loh  ichis  in  itself  and  is  conceived  by 
itself^  or  such  attributes  of  substance  as  express  an 
eternal  and  infinite  essence  ; in  other  Avords  (by  Coroll. 
1,  ProjE  14,  and  Coroll.  2,  Prop.  16),  God,  considered 
as  free  cause  of  cdl  that  is.  By  natura  naturata^  on 
the  contrary,  I understand  all  that  follows  f rom  the 
necessity  of  the  nature  of  God.,  or  from  any  of  the 
attributes  of  God  ; in  other  Avords,  all  the  modes  of 
the  attributes  of  God,  considered  as  things  that  are 
in  God^  and  AAdiich  Avithout  God  can  neither  be  nor  be 
conceiAmd  to  be. 

PROP.  XXX. — Understanding,  or  intellection, 
AAdietlier  finite  or  infinite  in  act,  must  com 
prebend  the  attributes  of  God  and  the  af- 
fections of  God,  and  nothing  else. 

Deaioxstr. — A true  idea  must  agree  Avith  its  ideate 
(b}^  Ax.  6)  ; that  is  to  say  (as  is  obvious),  that  Avliich 
is  contained  objectively  in  the  understanding  must 
necessarily  exist  in  nature.  But  in  nature  (by  Coroll. 
1,  Prop.  14)  there  is  only  one  substance — to  Avit,  God  ; 
and  no  affections  other  than  those  Avhich  are  in  God 
(by  Prop.  15),  and  AAdiich  (by  same  Prop.)  can  neither 
be  nor  be  conceded  to  be  Avithout  God.  Under- 
standing, therefore,  AAdiether  finite  or  infinite  in  act. 


38 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


must  compreliend  tlie  attributes  and  tlie  affections  of 
(xod,  and  nothing  else.  Q.  e.  d. 

PE  OP.  XXXI. — Tlie  understanding  in  act, 
Avlietlier  it  be  finite  or  infinite,  as  also  will, 
desire,  love,  etc.,  iiinst  be  referred  to  the 
natiira  naturata^  and  not  to  the  natiira  na- 
turans. 

Pe^iois’Str. — For  by  understanding  we  (evidently) 
do  not  mean  absolute  thought,  but  only  a certain 
mode  of  thought  which  differs  from  other  modes, 
such  as  desire,  love,  etc.,  and  so  (by  Def.  5)  it  must 
1)0  conceived  by  absolute  thought  ; that  is  (by  Prop. 
15  and  Def.  6),  it  must  be  conceived  by  some  attribute 
of  Clod  which  expresses  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence 
of  thought,  without  which  it  could  neither  be  nor  be 
conceived  to  be.  Understanding,  therefore  (by  Schol. 
Prop.  29),  as  also  the  other  modes  of  thought,  must 
be  referred  to  the  natura  naturata^  and  not  to  the 
natiira  natiirans.  q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — The  reason  why  I speak  here  of  under- 
standing in  act  is  not  because  I concede  that  there  is 
any  potential  understanding  (^.e.,  not  in  act),  but  be- 
cause I desire  to  avoid  all  confusion,  and  not  to  speak 
of  anything  but  that  which  we  most  clearly  compre- 
liend,  or  of  the  act  of  understanding  itself,  than  which 
there  is  nothing  more  clearly  perceived  by  us.  For 
we  can  understand  nothing  that  does  not  conduce  to 
a more  perfect  knowledge  of  the  act  of  understanding, 
or  intellection . 

X^EOP.  XXXII. — Will  cannot  be  called  a free 
caiise^  but  only  a necessary  cause. 

Demoxstr. — like  understanding^  is  but  a 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


39 


certain  mode  of  tlionglit.  Consequently  (by  Prop. 
28),  a particular  volition  cannot  exist  or  be  determined 
to  action  unless  it  be  determined  by  a cause,  this 
again  by  another,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  But  if  an 
infinite  will  be  supposed,  it  must  needs  be  deter- 
mined to  exist  and  to  act  by  God,  not,  indeed,  by  God 
considered  as  absolutely  infinite  substance,  but  as 
having  an  attribute  that  expresses  the  infinite  and 
eternal  essence  of  thought  (by  Prop.  23).  In  what- 
ever way,  therefore,  will  is  conceived,  whether  as 
finite  or  as  infinite,  it  requires  a cause  which  determines 
it  both  to  existence  and  action ; and  consequently 
(by  Def.  7)  icill  cannot  be  called  a free  cause^  but 
only  a necessary  or  constrained  cause,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  : 1.  That  God  does  not 
act  by  virtue  of  free  will. 

Coroll. — It  follows;  2.  will  understand- 

ing have  the  same  relation  to  the  nature  of  God  as 
motion  and  rest,  and,  speaking  absolutely,  as  all 
natural  things  have  which  (by  Prop.  29)  are  deter- 
mined by  God  to  exist  and  to  act  in  certain  ways. 
For  will,  like  everything  else,  requires  a cause  to  de 
termine  it  to  exist  and  to  act  in  a certain  manner. 
And  although  from  a given  will  or  understanding  an 
infinity  of  things  followed,  yet  this  could  with  no 
more  propriety  be  said  to  follow  because  God  acted 
by  virtue  of  free  will,  than  that  those  things  which 
follow  from  motion  and  rest  (for  an  infinity  of  things 
follow  from  these  also)  can  be  said  to  follow  from  the 
freedom  of  motion  and  rest.  Wherefore,  loill  no  more 
pertains  to  the  nature  of  God  than  other  natural 
things  do,  but  stands  related  to  it  in  the  same  way  as 
do  motion  and  rest,  and  all  other  things  which  we 
have  shown  to  follow  from  the  necessity  of  the  Divine 


40 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


nature,  whereby  they  are  determined  to  exist  and  to 
act  in  certain  ways. 

PEOP.  XXXIII. — Things  could  have  been  xn-o- 
dnced  by  God  in  no  other  way  or  order 
than  as  they  have  been  x)rodnced. 

De:\[OXSTPv. — All  things  have  follow^ed  necessarily 
from  the  nature  of  God  (by  Proj).  16),  and  it  is  by  the 
necessity  of  God’ s nature  that  they  are  determined  to 
exist  and  to  act  in  certain  ways  (b}^  Prop.  29).  If, 
therefore,  things  could  have  been  of  another  nature 
than  they  are,  or  been  determined  to  act  in  some 
other  way  than  they  do,  the  order  of  nature  would 
have  been  different  from  what  it  is,  and  the  nature 
of  God  also  would  have  been  different ; and  hence  (by 
Prop.  11)  another,  or  other  Divine  natures  must  also 
have  existed,  and  consequently  there  might  then 
have  been  two  or  more  gods,  which  (by  Coroll.  1, 
Prop.  14)  is  absurd.  AYlierefore  things  could  have 
been  x)roduced  in  no  other  way,  nor  in  any  other 
order,  etc.  q.  e.  n. 

SciiOL.  1. — In  order  now  that  I may  show,  as  clearly 
as  in  the  light  of  noon-day,  that  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  in  things  by  reason  of  which  they  could  be 
called  contingent,  I wish  to  explain  here,  in  a few' 
words,  what  we  are  to  understand  by  contingent ; 
first,  however,  let  me  explain  what  is  to  be  under- 
stood by  necessary  and  impossible.  A thing  is  said 
to  be  necessary  either  by  reason  of  its  essence  or  of 
its  cause.  For  the  existence  of  a thing  follows  neces- 
sarily either  from  its  essence  and  definition,  or  from 
a given  efficient  cause.  Again,  a thing  is  said  to  be 
impossible  either  because  its  essence  or  definition  in- 
volves a contradiction,  or  because  no  external  deter- 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


41 


milling  cause  can  be  assigned  for  tlie  production  of 
such  a thing.  But  a thing  is  called  contingent  for  no 
other  reason  except  in  resiiect  of  some  defect  in  oar 
knowledge.  For  the  thing  in  whose  essence  we  do 
not  know  that  contradiction  is  involved,  or  in  the 
essence  of  which  we  know  certainly  that  no  contra- 
diction is  involved,  and  yet  of  the  existence  of  which 
we  can  affirm  nothing  with  certainty — because  the 
order  of  causes  is  hidden  from  us — such  thing  can 
never  appear  to  us  either  as  necessary  or  as  impos- 
sible ; and  on  that  account  we  sx^eak  of  it  as  contin- 
gent or  x)Ossible. 

SciiOL.  2. — From  what  precedes  it  clearly  follows 
that  things  were  x)roduced  by  God  with  the  highest 
jierfection,  inasmuch  as  they  followed  necessarily 
from  the  most  xierfect  of  all  natures.  Xor  does  this 
necessity  argue  any  imxierfection  in  God ; for  it  is 
God’s  very  x^erfection  that  forces  us  to  affirm  this 
necessity.  For,  indeed,  if  this  were  not  so,  it  would 
clearly  follow  (in  the  way  we  have  just  shown)  that 
God  is  not  the  sovereignly  perfect  Being.  For  truh% 
if  things  had  been  x^i’oduced  in  another  way,  another 
nature  must  then  be  ascribed  to  God,  different  from 
that  which  reflection  compels  us  to  ascribe  to  the  su- 
Xireniely  perfect  Being.  I do  not  doubt,  however, 
that  many  will  scout  this  view  as  being  decidedly 
absurd,  and  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  examine  and 
X^onder  it ; and  for  no  other  reason  than  that  they 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  ascribing  to  God  a kind  of 
freedom  very  different  from  that  absolute  icill  or 
freedom  which  we  have  spoken  of  (Def.  6).  But 
neither  do  I doubt  that  if  they  would  onl}^  meditate 
uxDon  the  matter  and  carefully  consider  it,  together 
with  our  series  of  demonstrations,  they  would  at 
length  come  to  regard  such  freedom  as  they  are  wont 


42 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


to  ascribe  to  Grod  as  not  only  nugatory,  but  would 
even  wholly  reject  it  as  a great  obstacle  in  the  path 
of  science. 

Xor  is  there  any  reason  why  I should  here  repeat 
Avhat  I have  said  in  the  Scholium  to  the  17th  Propo- 
sition ; still,  in  consideration  of  the  objectors,  I will 
show  that  even  although  it  were  conceded  that  Will 
belongs  to  the  essence  of  God,  it  would  nevertheless 
follow  from  the  Divine  perfection  that  things  could 
have  been  created  in  no  other  way  nor  in  any  other 
order  than  they  have  been  created  by  God.  This  is 
easily  shown  if  we  first  consider  that  which  the  objec- 
tors themselves  concede — namely,  that  it  depends 
upon  the  will  and  decree  of  God  alone  that  every 
individual  thing  is  what  it  is ; for  otherwise  God 
would  not  be  the  cause  of  all  things  ; — further,  that 
all  the  decrees  of  God  have  been  unalterably  estab- 
lished by  God  from  all  eternity ; for  to  hold  other- 
wise would  be  to  presume  imperfection  and  incon- 
stancy in  God.  Now,  as  in  eternity  there  is  no  when, 
nor  before,  nor  after,  hence,  from  the  sole  perfection 
of  God,  it  follows  that  God  never  decreed  and  never 
could  have  decreed  anything  else  than  that  which 
was  decreed ; in  other  words,  God  w^as  not  anterior 
to  God’s  decrees,  and  could  not  be  without  them. 
But  here  it  may  be  said  that  although  it  should  be 
assumed  that  God  could  have  made  things  of  another 
nature,  or  had  from  eternity  decreed  another  nature 
and  another  order  of  things,  jet  no  imperfection  in 
God  would  follow  from  this.  Did  they  say  this, 
however,  then  they  must  at  the  same  time  admit  that 
the  decrees  of  God  might  be  changed.  For  if  God 
could  have  decreed  another  nature  and  a different 
order  of  nature  than  was  actually  decreed — that  is  to 
say,  if  God  could  have  conceived  and  willed  nature 


PAET  I. — OF  GOD. 


43 


otherwise  than  as  it  is — God  would  necessarily  have 
had  a different  understanding  and  a different  will 
from  what  God  did  actually  have.  And  if  it  be  per- 
missible to  ascribe  to  God  another  understanding  and 
another  will  without  a corresponding  change  of  es- 
sence and  perfection,  what  reason  is  there  that  the 
decrees  of  God  in  respect  of  created  things  should 
not  again  and  again  be  changed,  and  yet  God  remain 
as  perfect  as  ever?  For  God’s  understanding  and 
will  in  respect  of  created  things  and  their  order,  in 
whatever  way  conceived,  continue  to  bear  the  same 
relation  in  respect  of  God’s  essence  and  perfection. 
Further,  all  the  Philosophers  whose  writings  I have 
seen  concede  that  the  understanding  of  God  is  not 
in  power,  but  in  act ; and  as  all  of  them  also  concede 
that  God’s  understanding  and  will  are  not  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  God’s  essence,  it  therefore  follows 
from  this  that,  had  God  possessed  a different  under- 
standing in  act  and  a different  will,  God  would  also 
necessarily  have  had  a different  essence  ; and  conse- 
quently (as  first  concluded),  if  things  had  been  x3ro- 
duced  by  God  otherwise  than  they  are,  then  the 
understanding  and  the  will — i.e.  (as  conceded),  the 
essence  of  God — would  have  been  other  than  it  is, 
wdiich  is  absurd. 

Since,  therefore,  things  could  have  been  produced 
by  God  in  no  other  way  and  in  no  other  order — and 
that  this  is  true  follows  from  the  transcendent  X3er- 
fection  of  God — there  is  really  no  sound  reason 
whereby  we  could  be  induced  to  believe  that  God 
has  not  willed  to  create  all  things  which  were  or  are 
in  the  Divine  mind,  with  the  same  perfections  as 
those  wherewith  they  were  conceived.  And  if  it  be 
said  that  there  is  neither  perfection  nor  imperfection 
in  things,  but  that  the  qualities  or  proiDerties  by 


44 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


reason  of  which  they  are  said  to  be  perfect  or  imper- 
fect, good  or  bad,  depend  solely  upon  the  will  of 
Grod — so  that,  if  God  had  so  willed,  that  which  is  now 
perfection  in  them  might  have  been  the  greatest  im- 
perfection, and  ince  versa — what  else,  indeed,  were 
this  blit  openly  to  affirm  that  God,  who  necessarily 
understands  that  which  the  Divine  mind  wills,  might 
by  that  will  make  the  things  that  were  understood  in 
a different  wa}^  than  that  in  which  they  were  under- 
stood ? — which  (as  I have  just  shown)  is  grossly  ab- 
surd. Wherefore  the  arguments  of  such  reasoners 
can  be  turned  against  themselves  in  this  way : All 
things  depend  upon  the  power  of  God.  That  a thing 
should  be  other  than  it  is,  it  w^ere  necessary  that  the 
will  of  God  should  also  be  other  than  it  is.  But  the 
wall  of  God  cannot  be  other  than  it  is  (as  we  have 
very  plainly  shown  from  the  perfection  of  God)  ; 
nothing,  therefore,  could  be  other  than  it  is. 

I own  that  they  who  hold  to  the  opinion  which 
subjects  all  to  a certain  indifferent  will  of  God,  and 
which  makes  everything  to  depend  upon  God’s  good 
pleasure,  stray  less  from  the  truth  than  do  those  who 
maintain  that  God  has  acted  in  every  case  with  a 
view  to  what  is  good.  For  these  last  seem,  indeed, 
to  place  outside  of  God  something  that  does  not  de- 
pend on  God,  blit  which  in  acting  God  refers  to,  as  if 
it  were  a pattern,  or  particular  end  or  purpose  to  be 
accomplished.  IS^ow,  this  is  nothing  else  than  to  sub- 
ject God  to  fate — than  wdiich  nothing  can  be  more 
absurd ; for  we  have  shown  that  God  is  the  first, 
sole,  and  free  cause  of  the  essence  as  well  as  of  the 
existence  of  all  things.  But  we  shall  waste  no  more 
time  in  refuting  these  absurdities. 

O 


PART  I. — OF  GOD. 


45 


PEOP.  XXXIV.— The  power  of  God  is  the 
very  essence  of  God. 

Demoa^str. — For  it  follows  from  the  sole  necessity 
of  the  Divine  essence  that  God  is  self-caused  {causa 
ska)  (by  Prop.  11),  and  cause  of  all  things  (by  Prop. 

and  its  Coroll.)  Wherefore  tlie  power  of  God, 
whereby  God  and  all  things  are  and  act,  is  the  very 
essence  of  God.  Q.  e.  d. 


PEOP.  XXXV. — Whatever  we  conceive  to  he 
in  the  power  of  God  is  so  necessarily. 

Demoxstr. — For  whatever  is  in  the  power  of  God 
must  (by  preceding  Prop.)  be  com^^rised  in  God’s 
essence  and  follow  necessarily  therefrom  ; conse- 
(piently,  it  is  so  necessarily,  q.  e.  d. 


PEOP.  XXXVI. — Xothing  exists  from  the  na- 
ture of  which  some  effect  does  not  follow. 

Dewoxstr. — Whatever  exists  expresses  the  natnre 
or  essence  of  God  in  a certain  and  determinate  way 
(by  Coroll.  Prop.  25) ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  34), 
whatever  exists  expresses  in  a certain  determinate 
way  the  power  of  God  wliich  is  the  cause  of  all 
things.  Therefore  (by  Prop.  16)  nothing  exists  from 
which  some  effect  does  not  follow,  q.  e.  d. 


46 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


APPENDIX. 


Ix  the  foregoing  xDages  I liave  sought  to  explain 
the  nature  and  properties  of  God — as,  that  God  ex- 
ists necessarily  ; that  God  is  One  ; that  by  the  sole 
necessity  of  God’ s nature  God  is  and  acts  ; that  God 
is  the  Free  Cause  of  all  things,  and  how  God  is  so  ; 
that  all  things  are  in  God,  and  so  depend  on  God 
that  without  God  they  could  neither  be  nor  be  con- 
ceived to  be  ; and,  lastly,  that  all  things  were  prede- 
termined by  God,  not,  indeed,  by  virtue  of  God’s  free 
will  or  God’s  absolute  good  pleasure,  but  by  virtue 
of  the  absolute  nature  or  infinite  power  of  God.  I 
have,  moreover,  whenever  opportunity  offered,  sought 
to  remove  prejudices  which  might  prevent  my  demon- 
strations from  being  accepted  ; but  as  not  a few  such 
prejudices  remain,  and  have  prevented  and  still  do 
powerfully  prevent  men  from  comprehending  the 
views  of  the  concatenation  of  things  as  I have  ex- 
plained them,  I have  thought  it  would  not  be  an  use- 
less labor  to  summon  these  prejudices  before  the  bar 
of  reason  and  examine  them.  And  inasmuch  as  all 
of  these  prejudices  of  which  I shall  speak  here  re- 
ceive their  support  from  and  are  dependent  upon  this 
single  one — namely,  that  men  commonly  suppose 
that  all  natural  things  act,  like  themselves,  for  an 
end,  and  that  God  also  directs  all  things  with  a cer- 
tain and  determined  end  in  view  (for,  say  they,  God 
made  all  things  for  man,  and  made  man  that  he 
might  worship  God) — I shall  therefore  begin  with  this 
one,  inquiring  first  into  the  cause  why  most  men  ac- 
quiesce in  this  prejudice,  and  why  all  seem  by  nature 


PAKT  I. — OF  GOD. 


47 


so  much  disposed  to  embrace  it.  I shall  afterwards 
show  how  utterly  unfounded  this  prejudice  is  ; and, 
lastly,  how  from  it  have  arisen  the  prejudices  or  no- 
tions concerning  Good  and  Evil,  Merit  and  Demerit  or 
Sin,  Praise  and  Blame,  Order  and  Confusion,  Beauty 
and  Ugliness,  and  others  of  the  kind. 

This  is  not  the  proper  place  to  deduce  these  preju- 
dices from  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  or 
soul.  It  will  suffice  for  the  present  if  I take  as  a 
basis  for  my  inquiry  that  which  must  be  admitted  In' 
all — namely,  this  : that  all  men  are  born  ignorant  of 
the  causes  ofTtlmgs,  and  that  all  have  and  are  con- 
scious of  a desire  which  leads  them  to  seek  after  that 
which  is  useful  to  themselves.  From  this  it  follows  : 
First,  that  men  believe  they  are  free  because  they  are 
conscious  of  their  volitions  and  desires,  and  ignorant 
of  the  causes  which  dispose  them-  to  desire  and  to 
will,  not  thinking  of  these  even  in  their  dreams. 
Secondly,  that  men  believe  all  things  to  act  to  an  end — 
namely,  to  something  useful  which  they  desire. 
Hence  it  is  that  they  always  seek  to  know  only  the 
final  causes  of  acts  or  things  done  ; and  as  soon  as 
they  know  or  have  heard  of  these  they  rest  satisfied, 
because  they  have  no  incentive  for  farther  doubt  or 
inquiry.  If,  however,  they  can  obtain  no  information 
of  these  causes  from  others,  nothing  remains  for  them 
but  to  turn  to  themselves,  and  reflect  on  the  ends  or 
purposes  by  which,  under  similar  circumstances,  their 
own  actions  have  usually  been  determined  ; and  so 
they  necessarily  judge  of  the  views  or  purposes  of 
others  by  their  own.  Moreover,  as  men  find  both  in 
themselves  and  out  of  themselves  many  means  Avhich 
enable  them  to  obtain  useful  things  and  greatly  con- 
duce to  their  comfort  and  convenience — as,  for  in- 
stance, eyes  to  see,  teeth  to  chew,  herbs  and  animals 


48 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


for  food,  the  sea  to  nourish  fishes,  the  sun  to  give 
light  and  warmth,  etc. — it  comes  to  pass  that  they 
consider  all  natural  things  as  means  intended  to  be 
useful  to  themselves  ; and  knowing,  besides,  that  they 
liave  discovered  but  not  prepared  these  means  them- 
selves, they  think  they  have  reason  for  believing  that 
some  other  being  exists  who  has  prepared  all  these 
means  for  their  use.  For  after  having  considered 
things  as  means,  men  could  not  believe  that  these 
created  themselves,  but  must  conclude  that  there  was 
some  director  or  several  directors  of  nature,  endowed 
with  hum  an  freedom,  who  have  cared  for  all  things 
and  made  all  for  man’s  use.  And  inasmuch  as  they 
had  never  heard  aught  of  this  being  or  these  beings, 
they  must  judge  of  him  or  them  by  themselves,  and 
have  hence  concluded  that  God  or  the  Gods  directed 
all  things  for  the  benefit  and  use  of  mankind,  in  order 
to  attach  men  to  themselves  and  be  held  by  them  in 
the  highest  honor ; and  so  it  has  come  to  pass  that 
every  one,  according  to  his  own  character  or  disposi- 
tion, has  devised  a different  way  of  honoring  God,  in 
the  hope  that  God  would  love  him  above  others  and 
make  all  nature  serve  for  the  gratification  of  his  blind 
desires  and  insatiable  covetousness.  And  in  this 
way,  too,  has  this  prejudice  been  turned  into  sni^er- 
stition  and  struck  its  roots  deep  into  the  souls  of  men, 
producing  this  universal  eagerness  of  all  to  know 
and  explain  the  final  causes  of  things.  But  whilst 
striving  to  show  that  nature  does  nothing  in  vain 
(/.e.,  nothing  which  is  not  useful  for  man),  they  seem 
only  to  have  shown  that  nature,  gods,  and  men  were 
alike  deprived  of  reason.  Look,  I pray  yon,  at  what 
has  come  of  it ! Among  so  many  conveniences  of 
nature  not  a few  inconveniences  are  found,  such  as 
tempests,  earthquakes,  diseases,  etc.,  and  these  are 


PAirr  L — OF  GOD. 


49 


Hupposecl  to  proceed  from  the  anger  of  the  gods, 
provoked  by  the  injustice  committed  by  mankind,  or 
by  their  neglect  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  worshijD  ; and 
althongli  daily  experience  proclaims,  and  shows  b}' 
endless  examples,  that  the  blessings  and  the  ills  of 
life  alike  befall  the  pious  and  the  impious  without 
distinction,  yet  that  has  not  divested  them  of  this 
inveterate  prejudice.  For  it  is  much  easier  for  men 
to  put  all  this  in  the  category  of  unknown  things  and 
undiscovered  uses,  and  so  retain  their  i3resent  natural 
state  of  ignorance,  than  to  tear  down  the  whole  fabri(.* 
of  their  superstition  and  build  anew  on  the  founda- 
tion of  truth.  Men  have  held  it  to  be  certain  that 
the 'judgments  of  the  gods  far  surpassed  human  com- 
prehension— a conclnsion  that  would  have  sufficed  to 
hide  the  truth  from  mankind  for  ever,  were  it  not  that 
the  mathematics,  which  deal  not  with  ends  or  pur- 
poses, but  are  only  concerned  with  the  essences  and 
properties  of  figures,  presented  to  them  another  rule 
or  standard  for  the  discovery  of  truth.  And  besides 
the  mathematics  other  causes  might  also  be  assigned 
(which  it  would  be  superfinons  to  mention  here) 
whereby  men  would  have  been  led  to  meditate  upon 
their  vulgar  i^rejudices,  and  been  guided  to  a true 
knowledge  of  things. 

These  explanations  are  sufficient  for  the  first  preju- 
dice which  I promised  to  examine.  And  now  it  will 
be  no  great  task  to  show  that  nature  has  no  prescribed 
ends  in  its  operations,  and  that  all  final'  causes  are 
nothing  more  than  human'fictions.  I believe,  indeed, 
that  this  is  already  sufficiently  established  by  our  ex- 
planation of  the  grounds  and  reasons  whence  this 
prejudice  derives  its  origin,  as  well  as  by  our  Propo- 
sition 16  and  the  Corollary  of  Proposition  32,  to  say 
nothing  of  other  demonstrations  throughout  the  whole 
4 


oO 


spixoza's  ethics. 


of  this  Part,  hy  which  I have  shown  that  all  things  in 
nature  proceed  by  a certain  eternal  necessity,  and 
are  the  results  of  a supreme  perfection.  I will  add 
this,  hoAvever  : that  the  doctrine  of  final  causes  is 
wholly  subA'ersive  of  the  hiAvs  of  nature.  For  that 
which  is  truly  cause  it  regards  as  effect^  and  vice 
cersa  ; further,  that  Avhich  lorior  in  nature  it  makes 
posterior  ; and,  finally,  that  which  is  the  highest  and 
most  perfect  it  makes  the  most  imperfect.  For  (pass- 
ing by  the  first  tAvo  points  as  manifest  of  themselves) 
it  is  shoAAui  by  Propositions  21,  22,  and  23  that  the 
most  perfect  effect  is  that  AAdiich  is  produced  immedi- 
ately from  God,  and  that  is  less  perfect  AAdiich  re- 
cpiires  many  intermediate  causes  to  produce  it.  Xoaa', 
if  the  things  that  are  produced  b}^  God  immediately 
Avere  produced  in  order  to  attain  an  end  or  purj)ose 
proposed  by  God,  it  AA'ould  folloAV  that  the  last  cause, 
for  AAdiich  all  prior  causes  Avere  instituted,  Avould 
necessarily  be  the  most  excellent  of  all.  But  such  a 
doctrine  destroys  the  perfection  of  God  ; for  if  God 
acts  for  an  end,  then  God  necessarily  desires  some- 
thing Avliich  God  AAmnts  and  is  Avithoiit.  And  although 
theologians  and  metaphysicians  distinguish  betAveen 
an  end  desired  and  the  end  assimilated  to  the  desire, 
they  nevertheless  oavii  that  all  things  Avere  created  by 
and  for  God  because  God  desired  them,  and  not 
created  for  the  things  themselves  ; inasmuch  as  before 
creation  nothing  could  be  assigned  for  the  act  of  God 
but  the  Avill  or  desire  of  God  ; and  so  are  they  neces- 
sarily forced  to  admit  that  God  AA'as  Avithout  and 
Avanted  those  things  AAdiich  God  Avilled  and  prepared 
means  for — a conclusion  Avhicli  seems  perfectly  clear. 

Xor  should  AA^e  forget  to  mention  that  the  sectators 
of  this  doctrine,  AAdio  have  desired  to  sIioav  their  in- 
genuity in  assigning  final  causes  of  things,  liaA’e  had 


recourse  to  a new  style  of  argumentation— namely, 
])y  reductions,  not  to  the  impossible  or  absurd,  but  to 
ignorance  or  the  nnknown  ; Avhich  shows  that  tliere 
Avas  no  other  AAmy  left  to  them  of  supporting  this  doc- 
trine. For  example  : if  a stone  falls  from  the  to})  of 
a liouse  on  the  head  of  a passer-by  and  kills  him, 
they  AAull  demonstrate,  in  their  that  the  stone 

fell  expressly  to  kill  that  man.  For  if  it  did  not  fall 
by  the  Avill  of  Cxod,  and  for  this  end,  Avhy  should  so 
many  concurring  circumstances  (for  A^ery  many  do 
often  concur  in  such  a case)  liaA^e  led  to  the  eA^ent  ( 
You  ansAA^er,  perhaps,  that  the  eA^ent  happened  be- 
cause of  the  high  Avind  that  loosened  the  stone,  and 
because  the  man  AAms  passing  there  at  the  instant  it 
fell.  But  fortliAAdth  they  aa  ill  press  3^011  aa  ith  ques- 
tions : Why  did  the  AAund  bloAA^  so  strongly  at  that 
time  ? and  AA’hy  AA^as  the  man  passing  there  jirecisely 
at  the  moment  the  stone  fell  ? If  3^011  ansAA^er,  again, 
that  the  AA'ind  bleAA^  because  of  a distant  approaching 
tempest,  AAdiich  Avas  indicated  113"  the  agitation  of  the 
sea  on  the  ji receding  da3^,  although  the  AAxather  Avas 
then  fine  ; and  that  the  man  AA^as  passing  there  be- 
cause he  had  been  inAuted  and  aa^s  on  his  AAm3^ 
house  of  a friend,  the3^  Avill  again  ask — for  there  is 
no  end  to  their  questions — Why  did  the  tempest 
arise  at  a distance  on  the  day  before  ? and  AAdi3^  aaTcS 
the  man  invited  at  that  particular  time  ? And  so 
the}"  go  on,  further  and  further,  inquiring  for  one 
cause  after  another,  until  at  last  the3^  seek  refuge  in 
the  Avill  of  Clod — the  as3dum  of  ignorance.  So  also 
Avhen  they  consider  the  structure  of  the  human  bod3^ 
the3"  are  amazed  ; and  as  the}^  are  ignorant  of  the 
cause  of  so  much  art,  the}"  conclude  that  it  has  been 
fabricated  b}"  no  mechanical,  but  by  some  divine  or 
supernatural,  art,  AAdiich  has  so  constructed  it  that 


r>2  Spinoza's  ethics. 

each  particular  part  perfoiius  its  own  function  witli- 
out  interfering  witli  or  being  injurious  to  any  other 
])art.  And  thus  it  is  that  he  who  inquires  into  tbe 
true  causes  of  alleged  miracles,  and  Avho  strives  to 
understand  natural  things  like  a ])hilosopher,  instead 
of  blindly  wondering  at  them  like  a simjdeton,  is 
forthwith  held  to  be  an  intidel  and  impious  person, 
and  is  so  proclaimed  by  those  whom  the  vulgar  bow 
down  before  as  the  inteiq:>reters  of  nature  and  of  God. 
For  they  well  know,  indeed,  that  ignorance  once  dis- 
pelled astonishment  ceases,  and  that  the  only  means 
they  have  of  enforcing  their  arguments  and  maintain- 
ing their  authority  will  disappear.  But  I leave  this, 
and  proceed  to  the,  examination  of  what  constitutes  a 
i;hird  subject  of  inquiry. 

After  men  had  persuaded  themselves  that  every- 
tliing  in  nature  was  made  for  them,  they  of  course 
judged  those  things  to  be  the  principal  or  most  im- 
portant ones  which  they  found  the  most  useful  to 
themselves  ; and  they  esteemed  as  the  most  excellent 
of  all  those  by  which  they  were  the  most  agreeably 
affected.  Whence  it  has  come  to  pass  that  they  have 
formed  those  prejudices  or  notions  whereby  they  ex- 
plain natural  things,  designating  them  as  Good,  Bad, 
Orderly,  Confused,  Hot,  Cold,  Beautiful,  Ugly,  etc.  ; 
and  inasmuch  as  they  believe  themselves  to  be  free, 
lienee,  too,  have  arisen  those  other  notions  of  Praise 
and  Blame,  and  of  Merit  and  Sin.  Of  these  last  I 
shall  speak  further  on,  when  I come  to  treat  of 
iiuman  nature  ; as  to  the  former,  however,  I shah 
liere  explain  very  briefly  what  is  to  be  understood  b}^ 
them.  Whatever  conduces  to  the  health  and  well- 
}>eing  of  man  and  to  the  worship  of  God,  is  called 
Good  ; and  whatever  is  opposed  to  these  is  called 
Bad.  And  as  they  vho  do  not  understand  the  nature 


PAKT  T. — OF  GOD. 


of  tilings  can  affirm  nothing  of  them,  but  only  ima- 
gine them  and  take  their  imagination  for  understand- 
ing, they  firmly  believe  that  there  is  an  Order  in 
things,  althongh  they  are  ignorant  both  of  things  ami 
of  their  own  nature.  For  if  things  are  so  disj^osed 
or  arranged  that  when  represented  to  iis  by  our  senses 
they  are  easily  imagined,  and  consequently  easily 
remembered,  we  say  that  they  are  well  ordered  ; but 
if  the  contrary  is  the  case,  we  say  that  they  are  badly 
ordered  or  confused.  And  since  those  things  that  are 
readily  imagined  are  agreeable  to  us  beyond  ethers, 
therefore  do  we  prefer  order  to  confusion,  as  if  order 
in  nature  was  something  independent  of  our  imagina- 
tion. It  is  said,  further,  that  God  “ created  all  things  in 
order,”  and  in  this  way  isdhe  imagination  of  man  un- 
consciously ascribed  to  God — unless,  indeed,  it  should 
be  maintained  that  God,  provident  of  human  imagi- 
nation, had  disposed  all  things  in  such  a way  as  they 
might  be  most  easily  imagined  by  man  ; nor,  perhaps, 
would  they  who  judged  in  this  wise  be  hindered  by, 
or  find  any  great  difficulty  in  the  fact  that  almost  an 
infinity  of  things  are  met  with  which  far  surpass  our 
imagination,  and  many  which,  by  reason  of  its  weak- 
ness, confound  it.  But  this  is  enough  on  this  topic. 

As  to  the  other  notions — viz.,  hot  and  cold,  beauty 
and  ugliness,  etc. — they  are  nothing  more  than  modes 
of  imagining,  whereby  the  imagination  is  diversely 
affected,  but  which  are  esteemed  by  the  ignorant  as 
among  the  principal  attrilmtes  of  things,  because,  as 
already  said,  they  believe  that  all  things  were  made 
for  man  ; and  according  as  they  are  themselves 
affected  by  them  do  they  call  each  thing  good  or  bad, 
wholesome,  or  noxious  and  corrupt. 

For  example  : if  the  impressions  made  on  the  nerves 
])y  the  objects  whicli  are  represented  to  us  througli 


54 


SPIXOZA  S ETHICS. 


the  eye  are  agreeable  or  cause  us  pleasure,  these  ob- 
jects are  said  to  be  beautiful ; if,  on  the  contrary,  the 
impressions  they  make  are  disagreeable,  these  objects 
are  then  said  to  be  ugly  or  deformed.  It  is  thus  also 
that  impressions  received  by  the  senses  through  the 
nerves  of  the  nose  are  called  fragrant  or  fetid  ; and 
those  through  the  nerves  of  the  tongue  are  spoken 
of  as  bitter  or  sweet,  savory  or  insipid,  etc.  Impres- 
sions made  on  the  nerves  of  touch  are  hardness  or 
softness,  roughness  or  smoothness,  etc.;  and,  lastly, 
those  made  on  the  ear  are  called  sound,  noise,  or 
harmony — and  so  much  are  men  enraptured  with 
harmony  that  they  have  believed  that  the  gods  also 
delighted  in  it ; nor  have  philosoiihers  been  wanting 
who  have  persuaded  themselves  that  the  movements 
of  the  celestial  spheres  made  harmony.  Xow  all  this 
shows  suthciently  that  every  one  judges  of  tilings  by 
the  state  or  disposition  of  his  brain,  or  rather  takes 
the  affections  of  his  imagination  for  real  things. 
Wherefore  it  is  not  wonderful  (and  this  we  say  in 
passing)  that  so  many  controversies  have  arisen  among 
men  which  have  ended  in  scepticism.  For  though 
the  bodies  of  men  agree  with  one  another  in  many 
respects,  still  they  differ  in  many  more  ; so  that  what 
appears  good  to  one  seems  Itad  to  another  ; what  is 
loell-ordered  for  this  one  is  conf  used  for  that  one ; and 
what  is  agreeable  to  one  is  disagreeable  to  another ; 
and  so  with  many  other  things  which  I omit  to  speak 
of  here  because  this  is  not  a jiroper  place  to  treat  of 
them  ex  professo^  and  also  because  they  must  be 
familiar  to  all.  Every  one,  indeed,  has  heard  the  say- 
ings, ‘‘so  many  men,  so  many  minds,'’  “so  many 
palates,  so  many  tastes,” — evidencing  that  discrimina- 
tions abound  between  the  senses  of  men,  no  less  than 
between  their  minds.  These  sayings,  indeed,  very 


PART  I. — OF  GOD. 


55 


plainly  indicate  that  men  judge  of  things  according 
to  the  disposition  of  their  brains,  and  imagine  rather 
than  understand  them.  For  if  men  truly  understood 
things  as  the  mathematics  show  them  to  be,  the 
demonstrations  that  have  been  given  throughout  this 
Part  of  my  Philosophy,  though  they  might  not 
please,  would  at  least  convince. 

AV  e see,  therefore,  that  all  the  reasons  which  the 
vulgar  are  wont  to  make  use  of  to  explain  nature 
are  only  modes  of  imagining, — that  they  do  not  indi- 
cate the  nature  of  things,  but  merely  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  imagination ; and  as  these  modes  are  de- 
signated by  names,  as  if  they  were  entities  existing 
beyond  or  out  of  the  imagination,  I call  them  entities 
of  the  imagination — not  of  the  reason — and  so  can 
easily  repel  all  the  arguments  derived  from  such 
notions  that  are  advanced  against  our  views.  Many 
indeed  are  accustomed  to  argue  in  this  way : if  all 
things  have  followed  from  the  necessity  of  the  su- 
premely perfect  nature  of  God,  why  is  it  that  so  many 
imperfections  appear  in  nature  ? — for  instance,  the 
corruption  that  causes  fetor,  the  ugliness  or  deformity 
that  excites  disgust,  the  confusion,  the  evil,  the  sin, 
etc.,  we  meet  with  so  often?  But,  as  I have  said,  it 
is  easy  to  confute  such  arguments  ; for  the  perfection 
of  things  is  to  be  estimated  by  their  own  nature  and 
power  alone ; nor  is  a thing  more  or  less  perfect 
because  it  delights  or  offends  the  senses  of  man,  or 
because  it  is  conducive  to  or  incompatible  with  the 
wants  of  human  nature.  And  to  those  who  ask, 
AVhy  did  not  God  so  create  all  mankind  that  they 
would  be  governed  solely  by  reason  ? I make  no 
other  reply  than  this  : That  it  was  not  because  God 
lacked  material  for  the  creation  of  all  things,  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest  grade  of  iDerfection  ; or,  to 


56 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


speak  more  proiierly,  it  was  not  because  tlie  laws  of 
(rod’s  nature  were  ]iot  ample  enough  to  suffice  for  the 
production  of  all  things  that  could  be  conceived  by 
an  Infinite  Intelligence — as  I have  demonstrated  in 
the  16th  Proposition. 

These  are  the  prejudices  Avhich  I undertook  to  ex- 
amine and  discuss  here.  If  there  are  still  others  of 
the  same  nature,  a little  refiection  will  be  sufficient  to 
expose  and  correct  them. 


END  OF  THE  FIUST  PART. 


ETHICS 


SECOND  PART. 


OF  thp:  xatuke  axo  origix  of 

THF]  MIXD  OR  SOUL.* 

I NOW  proceed  to  explain  tliing*s  that  must  neces- 
sarily follow  from  the  Essence  of  God,  the  Eternal 
and  Infinite  Being*.  I do  not  say  everything  (for  it 
lias  been  demonstrated  by  Proposition  10,  Part  I., 
that  from  this  Being  an  infinity  of  things  in  infinite 
modes  must  follow),  but  those  things  only  that  may 
lead  ns,  as  it  were  by  the  fiand,  to  a knowledge  of 
the  human  soul  and  of  that  wherein  man’s  true 
liappiness  consists. 

DEFixmoxs. 

I.  By  body  I understand  a mode  which  in  a certain 
determinate  way  expresses  tlie  essence  of  God,  in  so 
far  considered  as  God  is  extended  being.  {Vide 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  25,  Part  I.f  ) 

* The  words  Soul  and  Mind  are  used  synonymously  throughout  the 
translation. 

f AVhen  reference  is  made  to  Propositions,  etc.,  unless  the  particular 
Part  to  which  they  belong  is  indicated,  it  is  always  to  be  understood 
that  they  belong  to  the  Part  in  hand.  This  rule  will  be  observed 
throughout. — Tr. 


58 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


II.  To  the  essence  of  a particuUir  thing  I say  tliat 
pertains  which,  being  given,  the  tiling  necessarily 
exists ; and,  being  taken  away,  the  thing  necessarily 
ceases  to  be.  In  other  words,  the  essence  of  a 
thing  is  that  without  which  the  thing,  and,  Tice 
Tersely  that  which  without  the  thing — can  neither 
be  nor  be  conceived  to  be. 

III.  By  idea  I understand  a conception  of  the 
sonl,  which  the  soul  forms  because  it  is  a thinking 
being. 

Explanation . — I say  a conception  rather  than  a per- 
ception^ because  the  word  perception  seems  to  im])ly 
that  the  soul  is  passively  affected  by  an  object, 
whilst  conception  appears  to  express  an  action  of  the 
soul. 

IV.  By  an  adequate  idea  I understand  an  idea 
which,  in  so  far  as  it  is  considered  in  itself  without 
relation  to  its  object,  possesses  all  the  properties  and 
intrinsic  denominations  of  a true  idea. 

Explan. — I say  irdrlnslc  in  order  to  exclude  from 
an  idea  that  which  is  extrinsic^  viz.,  the  agreement 
of  the  idea  with  its  ideate. 

V.  Duration  is  indetinitely  continued  existence. 

Explan. — I say  because  it  can 

in  no  wise  be  determined  by  the  proper  nature  of  the 
thing  existing,  nor  yet  by  its  efficient  cause  which 
necessarily  establishes  but  does  not  destroy  the 
existence  of  the  thing. 

YI.  By  reality  and  perfection  I understand  one 
and  the  same  thing. 

YII. — By  IndlTldual  things  I understand  things 
that  are  finite  and  have  a determinate  existence. 
But  if  several  individual  things  so  concur  in  pro- 
v/  ducing  one  act  that  all  of  them  together  are  the  cause 


PART  II. — OF  THE  3IIXD  OR  SOUL. 


59 


of  one  single  effect,  then  in  so  far  do  I consider  all 
of  them  as  constituting  one  individual  thing. 

AXIOMS. 

I.  Tlie  essence  of  man  does  not  involve  necessary 
existence  ; in  other  words,  it  might  as  well  liapx)en  in 
the  order  of  nature  that  this  or  that  man  existed  as 
that  he  did  not  exist. 

II.  Man  thinks. 

III.  Modes  of  thought,  such  as  love,  desire,  and 
the  other  affections  or  passions  of  the  soul — by  what- 
ever names  they  may  be  designated — do  not  occur  in 
an  individual  unless  ideas  of  the  things  loved,  de- 
sired, etc.,  also  occur  in  that  same  individual.  But 
an  idea  may  occur  without  any  other  mode  of  thought 
being  present. 

IV.  We  are  conscious  that  a particular  body  may 
be  affected  in  many  ways. 

V.  AVe  are  not  conscious  of  nor  do  we  perceive 
any  other  individual  things  than  bodies  and  modes 
of  thought. 

(For  Postulates  see  after  Proposition  13.) 


PKOPOSITIOXS. 

PROP.  I. — Thoiiglit  is  an  attribute  of  God,  or 
God  is  Thinking  Being. 

Demoxstr.— Individual  thoughts,  or  this  and  tliaf 
thought,  are  modes  which  express  the  nature  cf 
Clod  in  a certain  and  determinate  manner  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  25,  Part  I.)  To  God  therefore  belongs  an 
attribute  the  concept  of  which  involves  all  individual 


GO 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


or  particular  tliouglits,  and  by  wliicli  all  are  conceived 
(by  Def.  d,  Part  L)  Tliouglit,  consequently,  is  one 
of  the  infinite  attributes  of  God  which  expresses 
God’s  infinite  and  eternal  essence  {Dide  Def.  6,  Part 
T. ) ; in  other  words,  God  is  a thinking  being, 
(y  E.  I). 

ScTioL. — The  above  proiDosition  is  also  evident  by 
this — that  we  can  conceive  an  infinite  thinking  being. 
For  the  more  a thinking  being  can  think,  the  inort^ 
of  reality  or  perfection  do  we  conceive  it  to  have. 
Consequently,  a being  capable  of  thinking  an  infinity 
of  things  in  infinite  modes  is  necessarily  infinite  in 
virtue  of  its  thought.  AVhen  thus  taking  into  con- 
sideration thought  only  we  conceive  an  infinite  being, 
thought  is  necessarily  one  of  the  infinite  attributes 
of  God,  as  we  have  said.  (By  Defs.  4 and  6,  Part  I.) 

PROP.  11. — Extension  is  an  attribute  of  Cfod, 
or  God  is  Extended  Being. 

Demoxstr. — Tlie  demonstration  of  this  proposition 
proceeds  in  the  same  way  as  the  preceding  one. 

i^ROP.  III. — There  is  necessarily  in  God  the 
idea  of  God’s  own  essence,  as  well  as  of 
all  things  that  necessarily  follow  from  it. 

DiL^roxsTi:. — For  God  (by  Prop.  1)  thiidvs  an  in- 
finity of  things  in  infinite  modes,  or  (what  comes  to 
the  same  thing  by  Proi:>.  16,  Part  I.)  can  form  an 
idea  of  God's  own  essence  and  of  all  that  necessarily 
follows  from  it.  Xoav  all  that  is  in  the  poAver  of 
God  is  necessary  (by  Prop.  3.o,  Part  I.)  ; therefore 
such  an  idea  necessarily  exists,  and  (by  Prop,  lo, 
Part  I.)  it  can  exist  noAvhere  save  in  God.  q.  e.  d. 

SenoL, — By  power  of  G^'d  the  vulgar  understand 


PAirr  1 1. — OF  THE  MIXD  OP  SOUL. 


GJ 

the  free  will  and  government  of  God  over  all  things, 
which  are  therefore  commonly  considered  as  contin- 
gent. For  they  say  that  God  has  power  to  destroy 
and  annihilate  all  things;  and  this  power  of  God  is 
very  often  compared  to  that  of  an  earthly  potentate. 
Blit  we  have  refuted  this  notion  in  the  Corollaries 
1 and  2 to  Prop.  32,  Part  I.,  and  have  shown  in  Prop. 
10,  Part  I.,  that  God  acts  by  the  same  necessity  as 
that  whereby  God  understands;  that  is  to  sa3^  as 
from  the  necessity  of  the  Divine  iS'atnre  it  follows 
that  God  understands  Himself  (a  point  on  which  all 
are  agreed),  so  from  the  same  necessity  it  follows  that 
God  enacts  an  infinity  of  things  in  infinite  modes. 
Finally,  we  have  shown  by  Prop.  34,  Part  I.,  that  the 
power  of  God  is  nothing  else  than  God's  essence  in 
act ; so  that  it  is  as  impossible  for  ns  to  conceive  God 
not  acting  as  it  is  for  us  to  conceive  God  not  ex- 
isting. 

If  I wished  to  pursue  this  subject  further,  I could 
show  that  this  power  which  the  vulgar  connect  with 
God  is  not  only  human  in  its  kind  (which  proves  that 
the  vulgar  always  think  of  God  as  a human  being), 
but  that  it  even  involves  impotence.  But  I do  not 
wish  to  discuss  this  matter  again,  and  therefore  refer 
the  reader  to  what  has  been  said  in  Part  I.,  from 
Prop.  16  onwards  to  the  end,  which  I request  him  to 
read  again  and  ponder  carefully.  For  no  one  can 
rightly  comprehend  what  I wish  to  establish  if  he 
does  not  take  the  greatest  pains  not  to  confound  the 
power  of  God  with  the  power  and  right  of  a human 
potentate. 

PKOP.  IT. — The  Idea  of  God  whence  infinities 
follow^  in  infinite  modes  can  only  be  single 
or  one. 


spixoza's  ethics. 


02 


Demoxste. — Infinite  intelligence  comprises  nothing 
but  the  attributes  and  the  affections  of  God  (by 
Prop.  30,  Part  I.)  But  God  is  one  (by  Coroll.  1 to 
Prop.  14,  Part  I.)  ; consequently  the  Idea  of  God, 
from  which  follow  infinities  in  infinite  modes,  can 
o)dy  be  single  or  one.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  Y. — The  formal  being  of  ideas  has  God 
as  cause  in  so  far  only  as  God  is  considered 
as  thinking  being,  and  not  as  God  is  re- 
vealed by  some  other  attribute ; in  other 
words,  ideas,  whether  of  the  attributes  of 
God  or  of  particular  things,  have  not  their 
ideates  or  things  perceived  as  their  efficient 
cause,  but  God  considered  as  thinking 
being. 

Demonste. — This  is  plain  from  Prop.  3 ; for  there 
we  concluded  that  God  forms  an  idea  of  the  Divine 
Essence  and  of  all  that  follows  necessarily  from  it  by 
this  alone,  namely — because  God  is  thinking  being, 
and  not  because  God  is  the  object  of  God’s  idea. 
Wherefore  the  formal  being  of  ideas  has  God  for 
cause,  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  as  thinking 
being.  But  this  may  be  demonstrated  in  another 
way  : — the  formal  being  of  ideas  is  a mode  of  thought 
(as  is  obvious  of  itself),  that  is,  a mode  which  (by 
Coroll.  to  Prop.  25,  Part  I.)  expresses  in  a certain 
manner  the  nature  of  God  in  so  far  as  God  is  think- 
ing being  ; but  this  does  not  involve  the  concept  of 
any  other  attribute  of  God  (by  Prop.  10,  Part  I.),  and 
(‘onsequently  (by  Ax.  4,  Part  I.)  is  the  effect  of  no 
other  attribute  save  thought  alone.  Therefore  the 
formal  being  of  ideas  has  God  for  cause  only  in  so 


PAKT/II.— OF  THE  3riXD  Oil  SOUL. 


far  as  God  is  (Considered  as  thinking  being,  and  ncjt 
as,  etc.  Q.  E.  D. 

l^ROP.  YI. — The  modes  of  any  attribute  what- 
ever have  (fod  for  their  cause  in  so  far 
only  as  God  is  considered  under  that  par- 
ticular attribute  of  which  they  are  the 
modes,  and  not  under  any  other  attribute. 

Demoxste. — For  each  attribute  is  conceived  by 
and  through  itself  alone  (by  Prop.  10,  Part  I.) 
Wherefore  the  inodes  of  each  particular  attribute  in- 
volve the  concept  of  that  particular  attribute  and  of 
no  other;  and  so  (by  Ax.  4,  Part  I.)  they  have  God 
for  their  cause,  but  only  in  so  far  as  God  is  consid- 
ered under  that  particular  attribute  of  which  they 
are  the  modes,  and  not  under  any  other  attribute. 

E.  D. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  formal  being  of 
things  which  are  not  modes  of  thought,  does  not  fol- 
low from  the  Divine  nature  by  virtue  of  its  presci- 
ence of  things,  but  that  the  things  conceived  follow 
from  the  attributes  upon  which  they  depend  and  are 
deduced  from  them  in  the  same  way  and  by  the  same 
necessity  as  we  have' shown  that  ideas  follow  and  are 
deduced  from  the  attribute  of  thought. 

i^ROP.  Yir.  —The  order  and  connection  of 
ideas  is  the  same  as  the  order  and  connec- 
tion of  things. 

Demoxstr. — This  appears  xilaiidy  from  Ax.  4,  Part 
1.  For  the  idea  of  everything  caused  depends  upon 
a knowledge  of  the  cause  of  which  it  is  the  effect. 

Coroll,— Hence  it  follows  that  God’s  power  to 


04 


Spinoza's  ethics. 


think  is  equal  to  God’s  virtual  power  to  act ; iu  other 
words,  all  that  follows  formally  from  the  infinite  na- 
ture of  God,  follows  objectively  in  God  in  the  same 
order  and  with  the  same  connections  from  the  idea  of 
God. 

SciiOL. — Before  going  fiirtlier  it  will  be  well  to 
recall  to  mind  what  lias  been  already  said,  viz.,  that 
all  that  can  be  perceived  by  the  infinite  intelligence 
as  constituting  the  essence  of  substance  belongs  to 
the  one  substance  only ; and  consequently  that 
thinking  substance  and  extended  substance  are  only 
one  and  the  same  substance,  whicli  is  conceived  now 
under  this  attribute,  and  now  under  that.  So  also  a 
mode  of  extension,  and  the  idea  of  that  mode,  are 
only  one  and  the  same  thing  expressed  in  two  Avays. 
And  this  is  wliat  appears  to  have  been  perceived 
dimly  as  through  a cloud  by  certain  HebreAvs,  avIio 
maintain  that  God,  the  intelligence  of  God,  and  the 
things  understood  of  God,  are  one  and  the  same 
thing.  For  example : a circle  AAdiicli  exists  in  nature, 
and  tlie  idea  of  an  existing  circle,  AAdiich  is  also  in 
God,  are  one  and  the  same  thing  expressed  by  differ- 
ent attributes  ; and  consequently,  Avhether  Ave  con- 
ceive nature  under  the  attribute  of  extension,  or 
under  the  attribute  of  thought,  or  under  any  other 
attribute  AvhateA^er,  ^xe  shall  alAAuys  find  one  and  the 
same  order  and  connection  of  causes  ; that  is,  the 
same  things  Avill  be  found  folloAAfing  one  after  an- 
other. And  if  I haAU  said  that  God  is  the  cause  of 
the  idea  of  the  circle,  for  example,  in  so  far  only  as 
God  is  thinking  Being,  and  cause  of  the  circle  itself 
in  so  far  only  as  God  is  extended  Being,  I have  said 
it  for  no  other  reason  than  this : that  the  formal 
being  of  the  idea  of  the  circle  can  only  be  perceived 
by  another  mode  of  thought  as  its  proximate  cause, 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIE^D  OK  SOUL. 


G5 


tliis  again  by  another,  and  so  on  to  infinity  ; so  tliat, 
so  long  as  tilings  are  considered  as  modes  of  tlionglit, 
we  must  explain  the  entire  order  of  nature  or  the 
connection  of  causes  by  the  attribute  of  thought 
alone  ; and  if  they  are  considered  as  modes  of  exten- 
sion, then  by  the  attribute  of  extension  alone  ; and  in 
the  same  way  for  other  attributes.  Wherefore  Ave 
conclude  that  of  things  considered  in  themselves. 
God,  as  constituted  by  an  infinity  of  attributes,  is 
the  true  cause  ; but  I cannot  at  present  explain  this 
more  clearly. 

PEOP.  VIII. — Ideas  of  individual  things  or  of 
inodes  which  do  not  exist  must  be  compre- 
hended in  the  infinite  idea  of  God,  in  the 
same  Avay  as  the  formal  essences  of  things 
or  of  modes  are  comprised  in  the  attributes 
of  God. 

Demoxstr. — This  proposition  is  evident  from  the 
preceding  Scholium. 

C DROLL. — Hence  it  folloAvs  that  so  long  as  individ- 
ual things  have  no  existence  save  in  so  far  as  they 
are  comprised  in  the  attributes  of  God,  their  objec- 
tive being  or  ideas  do  not  exist  save  in  so  far  as  the 
infinite  idea  of  God  exists ; and  where  individual 
things  are  said  to  exist  not  merely  in  so  far  as  they 
are  comprised  in  the  attributes  of  God,  but  in  so  far 
also  as  they  are  said  to  have  a duration,  the  ideas  of 
these  things,  whereby  they  are  said  to  have  a dura- 
tion, also  involve  existence. 

SciiOL. — If  it  is  desired  that  I should  give  an  exam- 
ple for  the  better  illustration  of  this  subject,  I confess, 
indeed,  that  I cannot  give,  one  that  Avill  adequately 
explain  it,  for  it  is  a thing  unique  in  its  kind.  I Avill 


66 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


endeavor,  liowever,  to  tlie  best  of  my  ability,  to  illus- 
trate it.  The  nature  of  the  circle,  for  instance,  is 
such  that  if  it  is  crossed  by  several  straight  lines  in- 
tersecting each  other,  the  rectangles  formed  by  their 
segments  are  equal  to  one  another.  In  the  circle, 
therefore,  there  may  be  contained  an  infinity  of  rec- 
tangles severally  equal  to  one  another.  IS'one  of 
these-rec tangles,  however,  could  be  said  to  exist  save 
in  so  far  as  the  circle  existed  ; neither  can  the  idea  of 
any  of  them  be  said  to  exist  save  in  so  far  as  it  is 
comprised  in  the  idea  of  the  circle.  Xow  let  two 
only  of  these  rectangles,  D and  E,  from  among  the 
infinite  number  possible,  be  conceived  to  exist.  Then, 
indeed,  do  the  ideas  of  these  rectangles 
exist  not  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  com- 
prised in  the  idea  of  the  circle,  but 
they  exist  also  in  so  far  as  they  involve 
in  themselves  the  existence  of  the  two 
given  rectangles,  the  ideas  of  which  are 
thereby  distinguished  from  all  other  ideas  of  all 
other  possible  rectangles. 


PROP.  IX. — The  idea  of  an  individual  thing 
existing  in  act,  has  God  for  its  cause,  not 
as  God  is  infinite,  but  as  God  is  considered 
as  affected  by  another  idea  of  an  individual 
tiling  existing  in  act,  of  which  God  is  also 
the  cause  in  so  far  as  God  is  affected  by  a 
third  idea,  and  so  on  to  infinity. 

Demoxstr. — The  idea  of  an  individual  thing  exist- 
ing in  act  is  a particular  mode  of  thought  distinct 
from  all  other  modes  (by  Coroll,  and  Schol.  to  ProjD. 
8),  and  consequently  (by  Prop.  6)  has  God  for  its 


PAirr  II.— OF  THE  mind  or.  fouL. 


67 


(^aiise,  but  only  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  as 
thinking  being ; not,  however,  as  the  absolute  think- 
ing being  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  I.),  but  in  so  far  con- 
sidered as  affected  by  another  mode  of  thought 
which  also  has  God  for  its  cause  as  affected  by  still 
another  mode  of  thought,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  But 
the  order  and  connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  (by 
Prop.  7)  as  the  order  and  connection  of  causes. 
Therefore  is  the  cause  of  each  particular  idea  always 
another  idea,  or  God  in  so  far  considered  as  affected 
by  this  other  idea,  which  in  its  turn  has  God  for  its 
cause,  and  so  on  to  infinity,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — God  has  knowledge  of  wdiatever  happens 
in  the  individual  object  of  an  idea  in  so  far  onh^  as 
there  is  in  God  the  idea  of  that  object. 

Demonstk. — Whatever  happens  in  the  object  of 
any  idea,  God  has  an  idea  of  it  (by  Prop.  3),  not  as 
God  is  infinite,  but  in  so  far  considered  as  affected  by 
the  idea  of  another  individual  thing  (by  preceding 
Prop.)  But  (by  Pro]D.  7)  the  order  and  connection  of 
ideas  is  the  same  as  the  order  and  connection  of 
things.  Therefore  a knowledge  of  whatever  happens 
in  any  individual  object  will  be  present  in  God  in  so 
far  only  as  God  has  an  idea  of  that  object,  q.  e.  h. 

PROP.  X. — To  be  of  substance  does  not  belong 
to  the  essential  nature  of  man  ; in  other 
words,  substance  does  not  constitute  the 
formal  or  actual  being  {forma)  of  man. 

Demoxstil— To  be  of  substance  involves  necessary 
existence  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  I.)  If,  therefore,  to  be 
of  substance  belonged  to  the  essence  of  man,  sub- 
stance being  given,  man  Avould  necessarily  also  be 
given  (by  Def.  2),  and  consequently  man  would  exist 


68 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


necessarily, — which  is  absurd  (by  Ax.  1).  Therefore, 
etc.  Q.  E.  D. 

SciioL.  1. — This  proposition  may  also  be  demon- 
strated by  the  aid  of  Prop.  5,  Part  I.,  wherein  it  is 
proved  that  two  substances  of  the  same  nature  cannot 
exist.  But,  as  many  men  can  co-exist,  it  is  therefore 
not  substantive  being  which  constitutes  the  formal  or 
actual  in  man.  This  ^proposition  is  made  further 
manifest  when  the  other  ^properties  of  substance  are 
considered, — such  as  that  it  is  by  its  nature  infinite, 
immutable,  indivisible,  etc.,  as  must  be  obvious  to 
every  one. 

ConoLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  essential  nature 
of  man  is  constituted  by  certain  modifications  of  the 
attributes  of  God  ; for  substantive  being  (by  the  pre- 
ceding Prop.)  does  not  belong  to  the  essence  of  man. 
It  is  therefore  (by  Prop,  lo.  Part  I.)  something 
which  is  in  God  and  which  can  neither  be  nor  be  con- 
ceived to  be  without  God  (by  Coroll.  to  Proj).  25, 
Part  I.) ; in  other  words,  it  is  an  affection  or  mode 
which  expresses  the  nature  of  God  in  a certain  and 
determinate  way. 

SciioL.  2. — All  indeed  must  allow  that  nothing 
can  be,  nor  be  conceived  to  be,  without  God ; for  it 
is  admitted  by  all  that  God  is  the  sole  cause  of  all 
things, — of  their  essences  as  well  as  of  their  existences  ; 
that  is,  God  is  not  only  the  cause  of  the  becoming  of 
things  (as  is  said),  but  of  their  being  icliat  they  ctre. 
But  while  most  reasoners  thus  say  that  what  belongs 
to  the  essence  of  a thing  is  that  without  which  the 
thing  can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be,  one  of 
two  things  must  result  from  it — either  that  the  nature 
of  God  belongs  to  the  essence  of  created  things,  or, 
that  the  things  created  can  be  and  be  conceived 
to  be  without  God  ; or, — and  this  is  much  the  most 


PAKT  II.— OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


69 


certain — that  they  who  reason  thus  are  inconsistent 
with  themselves.  These  persons,  in  my  opinion, 
observe  no  philosophical  order  in  their  reasonings  ; 
for  whereas  they  should  have  first  contemplated 
the  Divine  nature,  because  it  is  prior  both  in  the 
order  of  conception  and  in  nature,  yet  have  they  con- 
sidered it  last,  and  have  given  precedence  to  the  con- 
sideration of  those  things  Avhich  are  styled  objects  of 
sense.  So  that  it  has  come  to  pass  that  contempla- 
ting natural  things,  nothing  has  been  further  from 
their  thoughts  than  the  Divine  nature  ; and  when, 
afterwards,  they  have  raised  their  minds  to  the  con- 
templation of  this,  they  could  not  forget  those  first 
figments  of  their  imaginations  upon  which  the  super- 
structure of  their  science  of  natural  things  was 
reared.  But  a knowledge  of  natural  things  does  not 
aid  ns  in  a knowledge  of  the  Divine  nature,  and  it 
is  therefore  no  wonder  that  they  who  build  on  the 
former  should  often  be  found  contradicting  them- 
selves. But  I cannot  dwell  on  this, — my  purpose  .here 
being  only  to  explain  why  I have  not  said  that  that 
belongs  to  the  essence  of  a thing  without  which  the 
thing  can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be — for  it  is 
certainly  true  that  without  God  individual  things 
can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be — and  yet  have 
said  that  God  (or  Substance)  pertains  not  to  their 
essence,  but  that  what  necessarily  constitutes  the 
essence  of  a thing  is  that  which  being  given,  the 
thing  is  given,  and  which  being  taken  away,  the 
thing  is  not ; or,  it  is  that  Avithout  AAdiich  the  thing, 
and,  vice  mrsd^  that  Avhich  Avithout  the  thing  can 
neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be.  ( Vide  Def.  2.) 

PBOP.  XI. — That  AAdiicli  in  the  beginliing 

constitutes  the  Actual  or  Keal  being 


70 


spixoza's  ethics. 


of  the  liiiinaii  soul  is  nothing  else  than  the 
Idea  of  a particular  thing  existing  in  act. 

Demoxstk. — The  essence  of  man  (by  Coroll,  to  pre- 
ceding Prop.)  is  constituted  by  certain  modes  of  the 
attributes  of  Clod,  namely — by  modes  of  thought  (b}" 
Ax.  2),  the  ideas  of  all  of  which  are  prior  in  nature 
(by  Ax.  3),  and  being  given,  the  other  modes  (the  ideas 
of  which  are  prior  in  nature)  must  also  be  present  in 
the  same  individual  (Ax.  4).  Thus,  therefore,  is 
Idea  that  which  in  the  heglnnlng  constitutes  the 
actual  or  real  being  of  the  human  soul.  But  not  the 
idea  of  a non-existing  thing,  for  then  (by  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  8)  the  idea  itself  could  not  be  said  to  exist ; 
nor  yet  the  idea  of  an  infinite  thing,  for  an  infinite 
thing  (by  Props.  21  and  23,  Part  I.)  must  necessarily 
and  eternally  exist.  But  such  assumx)tions  are 
absurd  (by  Ax.  1).  Therefore  is  the  idea  of  a partic- 
ular thing  existing  in  act  that  which,  in  the  begin- 
ning, constitutes  the  actual  being  of  the  human  mind 
or  soul.  Q.  E.  D. 

. ConoLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  human  soul  is 
part  of  the  infinite  intelligence  of  Clod  ; so  that  when 
we  say  that  the  human  soul  perceives  this  or  that,  we 
say  no  other  thing  than  that  Grod — not  as  the  Infinite, 
but  in  so  far  as  expressed  by  the  nature  of  the  human 
soul,  or  in  so  far  as  Clod  constitutes  its  essence — has 
this  or  that  idea ; and  saying  this,  we  not  only  say 
that  Clod  has  an  idea  of  this  or  that  in  so  far  as  God 
constitutes  the  nature  of  the  human  soul,  but  in  so 
far  as  along  with  the  human  soul  God  has  also  an 
idea  of  another  thing — in  which  case  we  say  that  the 
human  soul  perceives  a thing  in  a partial  or  inade- 
quate manner. 

ScnoL. — And  here  I doubt  not  that  some  of  my 


PAET  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OF  SOUL. 


71 


rea tiers  will  pause  and  devise  many  questions  wliicli 
will  make  further  progress  ditRcult.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  I now  ask  them  to  proceed  with  me  delib- 
erately, and  to  suspend  their  judgments  until  they 
have  read  and  thoroughly  considered  all  that  I have 
still  to  say  on  this  subject. 


PE  OP.  XII. — IVliatever  happens  in  the  object 

of  the  idea  which  constitutes  the  lininan  / 
soul  must  be  perceived  by  the  soul — or  an 
idea  of  that  object  is  necessarily  present  in 
the  soul  ; that  is  to  say,  if  the  object  of 
the  idea  which  constitutes  the  liiiinan  soul 
be  body,  nothing  can  happen  in  the  body 
which  is  not  perceived  by  the  soul. 

Demoxstr. — Whatever  happens  in  the  object  of 
an  idea  is  necessarily  knowui  to  God  (by  Coroll.  to 
Prop.  9)  in  so  far  considered  as  affected  by  the  idea 
of  that  object  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  11),  in  so  far  as  God 
constitutes  the  soul  of  a particular  thing.  Conse- 
quently, whatever  happens  in  the  object  of  the  idea 
which  constitutes  the  human  soul  will  be  necessarily 
cognized  by  God  in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the 
nature  of  the  human  soul ; that  is  (by  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  11),  the  consciousness  of  it  will  be  necessarily 
in  the  soul,  or  will  be  perceived  by  it.  q.  e.  n. 

SciiOL. — This  proposition  is  evident,  but  perhaps 
it  will  be  more  clearly  understood  by  the  Scliolinm  to 
Proposition  7,  which  see. 

PEOP.  XIII. — The  object  of  the  idea  which 
constitutes  the  human  soul  is  the  body,  or 


72 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


a certain  mode  of  extension  existing  in  act 
and  nothing  else. 

Demoxstk. — If  the  body  were  not  the  object  of 
tlie  soul  of  man,  ideas  of  the  atfections  of  the  body 
could  not  be  present  in  God  (by  Coroll.  to  Prop.  9) 
in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  our  soul,  but  only  in  so 
far  as  God  constituted  the  soul  of  some  other  thing  ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11),  ideas  of  the 
affections  of  the  body  could  not  be  present  in  our 
soul  at  all.  But  (by  Ax.  4)  we  have  ideas  of  our 
bodily  affections  ; therefore  the  object  of  the  idea 
which  constitutes  the  human  soul  is  the  body  exist- 
ing in  act  (by  Prop.  11).  Again  : if  the  soul  had  any 
other  object  besides  the  body,  inasmuch  as  nothing 
exists  (by  Prop.  36,  Part  I.)  from  which  some  effect 
does  not  follow,  there  must  necessarily  have  been 
some  idea  of  such  an  effect  resulting  from  that  object 
present  in  our  soul  (by  Prop.  11).  But  (by  Ax.  5) 
there  is  no  idea  of  any  such  effect  present  in  our 
soul,  and  therefore  no  such  idea  exists.  Consequent- 
\y,  the  object  of  our  soul  is  our  body  existing  in  act, 
and  nothing  else.  Q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  man  is  composed  of 
soul  and  body,  and  that  the  human  body  exists  as 
we  feel  and  are  conscious  of  it. 

SciiOL. — AVhat  precedes  enables  us  not  only  to  un- 
derstand that  the  human  soul  is  united  to  the  body, 
but  also  what  is  to  be  understood  by  the  union  of 
soul  and  body.  Xo  one,  however,  can  understand 
this  distinctly  or  adequately  unless  he  first  adequate- 
ly understands  the  nature  of  the  human  body.  For 
what  we  have  said  thus  far  is  of  general  application, 
and  does  not  refer  to  man  more  than  to  other  crea- 
tures, which  are  all,  though  in  different  degrees,  ani- 


73 


PART  II.  — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


mated  {i.e.,  have  souls).  For  the  idea  of  everything 
of  which  God  is  cause,  necessarily  exists  in  God  in 
the  same  way  as  the  idea  of  the  human  body  ; so  that 
all  we  have  said  of  the  idea  of  the  human  body  must 
also  necessarily  be  said  of  the  idea  of  every  other 
thing.  But  still  it  cannot  be  denied  that  ideas  differ 
from  one  another  just  as  their  objects  do,  so  that  one 
idea  is  more  excellent  than  another  and  has  more  of 
reality  belonging  to  it,  just  as  the  object  of  one  idea 
is  more  excellent  than  the  object  of  another  and 
possesses  more  of  inherent  reality  than  others.  To 
determine,  therefore,  wherein  the  human  soul  excels 
other  souls,  and  whereby  it  is  distinguished  from 
others,  it  is  necessary  that  we  should  know  its  object, 
namely,  tlie  nature  of  the  human  body.  This,  how- 
ever, I cannot  explain  in  this  place,  nor  is  it  neces- 
sary that  I should  do  so  in  respect  of  that  which  I 
now  wish  to  demonstrate.  I therefore  limit  myself 
to  say,  in  a general  way,  that  in  the  degree  that  one 
body  is  more  apt  than  others  at  once  to  act  and  to  suf- 
fer in  a number  of  ways,  so  much  the  more  ajit  is  its 
associated  soul  simultaneously  to  perceive  a variety 
of  things ; and,  the  more  the  actions  of  a particular 
body  depend  upon  itself  alone,  and  the  less  other 
bodies  concur  with  it  in  acting,  the  more  will  the  soul 
united  to  that  body  be  apt  to  understand  things  dis- 
tinctly. And  it  is  by  this  that  we  know  the  su- 
periority of  one  mind  or  soul  over  another,  and  also 
perceive  the  reason  why  we  have  only  a confused 
knowledge  of  our  body  as  well  as  of  many  other 
things,  which  in  what  follows  I shall  deduce  from 
this.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I shall  now  take  jiains 
to  explain  and  demonstrate  the  matter  more  carefully  ; 
and  in  order  to  do  this  it  is  necessary  to  offer  a few 
preliminary  remarks  concerning  the  nature  of  bodies. 


74 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


Axiom  I. — All  bodies  are  either  in  motion  or  at 
rest. 

Axiom  II. — Every  body  in  motion  moves  noAv  slower, 
now  faster. 

Lemma  I. — Bodies  are  distinguished  from  one 
another  by  reason  of  their  motion  or  rest  and  by 
slowness  or  rapidity  of  their  motions,  and  not  in 
respect  of  substance. 

Demoxstr. — The  first  part  of  this  Lemma  I sup- 
pose to  be  self-evident.  As  to  the  second  part — that 
bodies  are  not  distinguished  by  reason  of  substance — 
that  appears  by  Propositions  5 and  8,  Part  I.;  and 
still  more  clearly  by  what  has  been  said  in  the  Scho- 
linm  to  Proposition  15,  Part  I. 

Lemma  II.— All  bodies  agree  in  some  things. 

Demoxstr. — All  bodies  agree  in  these  xiarticnlars : — 
that  they  all  involve  the  conception  of  one  and  the 
same  attribute  (by  Def.  1) ; and,  further,  that  they 
move  now  more  slowly,  now  more  rapidly  ; and  last- 
ly, that  they  may  now  be  in  motion,  and  now  abso- 
lutely at  rest. 

Lemma  III. — A body  in  motion  or  at  rest  must  be 
determined  to  motion  or  to  rest  by  another  body, 
which  in  its  turn  was  determined  to  motion  or  to 
rest  by  another,  this  again  by  another,  and  so  on  to 
infinit}^ 

Demoxstr. — Bodies  (by  Def.  1)  are  individual  things 
which  (by  Lemma  1)  are  distinguished  from  one 
another  by  reason  of  their  motion  and  rest ; each 
therefore  (by  Prox).  28,  Pt.  I.)  must  necessarily  be  de- 
termined to  motion  or  rest  by  some  other  individual 
thing,  namely  (by  Prox^.  6),  by  another  body  which 
(by  Ax.  1)  is  itself  either  in  motion  or  at  rest.  But 
this  other  body  (for  the  same  reason)  could  neither 
move  nor  rest  unless  determined  to  do  so  by  another 


PART  II. — OF  THE  illXD  OPv  SOUL. 


75 


body,  and  this  again  (for  the  same  reason)  by  another, 
and  so  on  to  infinity.  Q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  a body  in  motion 
continues  to  move  until  it  is  determined  by  another 
body  to  come  to  rest  ; and  that  a body  at  rest  remains 
at  rest  until  it  is  put  in  motion  by  another  body. 
This  is  self-evident.  For  when  I suppose  a body,  say 
A,  at  rest,  without  taking  any  notice  of  other  bodies 
that  are  in  motion,  all  that  I can  say  of  A is  that  it  is 
at  rest.  But  if,  afterwards,  it  happens  that  A moves, 
this  motion  certainly  could  not  have  come  from  its 
state  of  rest ; for  nothing  could  come  from  that  but 
continnons  rest.  If,  on  the  contrary,  we  suppose  A 
in  motion,  then,  so  long  as  we  take  no  notice  of  any 
other  bodies,  we  could  affirm  nothing  of  A except 
that  it  moved.  But  if,  afterwards,  it  happened  that 
A came  to  rest,  it  is  evident  that  this  rest  could  not 
have  come  from  the  motion  it  had  before  ; for  the 
only  thing  that  could  come  from  motion  would  be 
continnons  motion.  The  rest  of  A came  therefore 
from  something  that  was  not  in  A,  namely,  from  an 
external  cause  which  determined  it  to  rest. 

Axio:\i  I. — All  the  modes  in  which  one  body  is 
affected  by  another,  follow  from  both  the  nature  of 
the  affected  and  of  the  affecting  body  at  one  and  the 
same  time  ; so  that  one  and  the  same  body  is  diverse- 
ly moved  by  diversity  in  the  nature  of  the  moving 
bodies ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  different  bodies 
are  moved  in  diverse  ways  by  one  and  the  same 
body. 

Axiom  II. — AVhen  a body  in  motion  impinges  on 
another  body  at  rest  which  it  cannot  move,  it  suffers 
reflection  in  continuing  its  motion,  and  the  angle  of 
the  line  of  reflected  motion  is  equal  to  that  of  the  line 


76 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


of  incidence  Avitli  the  plane  of  the  body  at  rest 
impinged  upon.  This  much  in  re- 
spect of  the  simplest  bodies,  to  wit, 
those  that  are  distinguished  from 
one  another  by  motion  and  rest  and 
by  rapidity  or  slowness  of  motion 
alone.  Let  us  noAv  ]3roceed  to  composite  bodies. 

Defixitiox. — AVhen  several  bodies  of  the  same  or 
of  different  magnitudes  are  so  pressed  together  that 
they  severally  overlie  or  rest  one  upon  another,  or 
when  they  move  with  like  or  different  degrees  of 
rapidity  in  such  wise  that  they  severally  communicate 
their  motions  in  some  certain  measure  to  one  another, 
we  say  that  these  bodies  are  so  united  that,  together, 
the,y  compose  one  body  or  individual  wdiich  by  this 
union  is  distinguished  from  other  bodies. 

Axio:\r  III. — According  as  the  parts  of  a composite 
body  or  individual  press  or  rest  one  upon  another  by 
surfaces  of  greater  or  less  extent,  so  Avill  it  be  more 
or  less  difficult  or  easy  to  force  them  to  change  their 
places,  and  consequently  more  or  less  difficult  or  easy 
to  change  the  figure  or  shape  of  the  individual  which 
they  compose.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  bodies  are 
called  hard  when  their  several  parts  are  in  contact 
with  each  other  by  large  surfaces  ; soft^  when  their 
• parts  are  in  contact  by  small  surfaces  ; and  fluids 
when  their  several  jiarts  are  easily  movable  on  each 
other. 

Lemma  IY. — If  from  a body  or  individual  com- 
posed of  several  parts  or  bodies,  some  of  these  are 
detached,  but  at  the  same  moment  replaced  by  an 
equal  number  of  parts  or  bodies  of  the  same  nature 
and  form,  that  individual  will  retain  its  nature  and 
its  figure  as  before,  without  change. 

Demoxste. — For  bodies  (by  Lemma  1)  are  not  dis- 


PAr.T  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OH  SOUL. 


77 


tinguislied  from  one  another  by  reason  of  substance. 
But  that  which  constitutes  the  form  of  an  individual 
thing  consists  in  the  union  of  the  bodies  or  parts 
which  compose  it  (by  preceding  Del) ; and  this  union 
(by  hypothesis)  is  retained  although  the  parts  are 
continually  changed.  The  individual,  therefore,  ivill 
retain  its  nature  as  before,  both  in  resioect  of  sub- 
stance and  of  mode.  q.  e.  d. 

Lemma  Y. — If  the  parts  which  compose  an  individ- 
ual become  larger  or  smaller,  but  in  such  relative  pro- 
portion as  that  all  preserve  the  same  ratio  in  respect 
of  motion  and  rest  as  before,  the  individual  will  like- 
wise retain  its  nature  as  before,  without  any  change 
of  form. 

Demonstr. — This  is  the  same  as  for  the  preceding 
Lemma. 

Lemma  YI. — If  the  bodies  or  x^arts  composing  a 
certain  individual  are  forced  to  change  the  direction 
of  their  motions,  but  in  such  a way  that  they  can 
continue  their  motions  and  communicate  them  to  each 
other  in  the  same  ratio  as  before,  the  individual  will 
in  like  manner  retain  its  nature  without  any  change 
of  form. 

Demonstr. — This  is  self-evident.  For  the  individ- 
ual is  supxiosed  to  retain  everything  which,  in  its  de- 
hnition,  we  have  said  constitutes  its  form. 

Lemma  YII. — The  individual  thus  comj)osed  will 
likewise  retain  its  nature,  whether  it  be  moved  as  a 
whole  or  rests  as  a whole,  and  whether  its  motion  has 
this  or  that  direction,  so  long  as  each  one  of  its  parts 
retains  its  motion  and  communicates  it  to  the  other 
Xiarts  as  before. 

Demonstr. — This  will  be  found  in  the  Definition  of 
a body  or  individual  which  xirecedes  Lemma  4,  which 
see. 


78 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


ScnoL. — From  what  precedes  we  see  how  a com- 
posite individual  may  be  affected  in  many  ways,  and 
yet,  notwithstanding,  preserve  its  nature.  Thus  far 
we  have  conceived  an  individual  compounded  of 
bodies  distinguished  from  one  another  only  by  motion 
or  rest,  or  by  slowness  or  rapidity  of  movement — that 
is  to  say,  an  individual  composed  of  the  simplest 
bodies.  But  had  we  conceived  another,  composed  of 
numerous  individuals  of  dilferent  natures,  then 
should  we  have  found  that  it  was  capable  of  being 
affected  in  many  other  ways,  and  yet,  nevertheless, 
could  preserve  its  nature  unchanged.  For  inasmuch 
as  each  one  of  its  parts  is  itself  composed  of  many 
bodies  or  parts,  these  severally  and  (by  preceding 
Lemma)  without  any  change  in  their  nature  may 
move  now  more  slowly,  now  more  rapidly,  and  con- 
sequently communicate  their  more  rapid  or  slower 
movements  to  the  rest.  Again,  if  we  had  conceived 
a third  kind  of  individual  compounded  of  this  second 
class  of  bodies,  then  should  we  have  perceived  that  it 
also  could  be  affected  in  many  different  ways  without 
undergoing  any  change  in  its  form.  And  if  we  went 
on  and  on  in  this  manner  to  infinity,  we  should 
readily  conceive  that  the  whole  of  nature  was  really 
but  One  Individual,  whose  several  parts  or  bodies,  in 
other  words,  all  bodies  whatsoever,  varied  in  an  in- 
finity of  ways  without  any  change  in  the  totality  of 
nature  conceived  as  One  Individual.  This  would  be 
more  fully  explained  and  demonstrated  if  I had 
designed  to  treat  of  body  ex  professo ; but  I repeat 
that  such  is  not  my  purpose,  and  that  I have 
placed  these  preliminary  remarks  here  only  that  I 
may  deduce  readily  from  them  what  I propose  to  de- 
monstrate 


PAET  11.— OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


79 


POSTULATES. 

I.  The  human  body  is  composed  of  many  individual 
parts  (of  diverse  nature),  each  of  which  is  itself 
higlily  composite. 

II.  Of  the  individual  iiarts  of  whicli  the  human 
body  is  composed  some  are  fluids  some  soft^  and 
some  hard. 

III.  The  individual  parts  composing  the  human 
body,  and  consequently  the  human  body  itself,  are 
affected  in  very  many  ways  by  external  bodies. 

IV.  The  human  body  requires  for  its  preservation 
many  other  bodies,  by  which  it  is,  as  it  Avere,  con- 
tinually regenerated. 

V.  When  a ffuid  part  of  the  human  body  is  de- 
termined by  an  external  body  to  impinge  frequently 
upon  another  soft  part,  it  alters  the  surface  of  it 
and  impresses  on  it  some  trace,  as  it  AA^ere,  of  the 
external  impelling  body. 

VI.  The  human  body  can  moA^e  external  bodies  in 
many  AA'ays,  and  in  many.AAnys  influence  or  dispose 
them. 

PKOP.  XIY. — The  liniiian  soul  is  capable  of 
perceiAung  many  things  ; and  it  is  so  much 
the  more  capable  in  proportion  as  its  body 
may  be  disposed  in  many  Avays. 

Deaioxstr. — For  the  human  body  (by  Postulates 
8 and  6)  is  affected  by  external  bodies  in  many 
AA'ays  ; and  is  also  disposed  to  affect  external  bodies 
in  many  Avays.  But  all  that  happens  in  the  human 
body  must  be  perceived  by  the  human  soul  (by  Prop. 
12)  ; therefore  the  human  soul  is  capable  of  per- 


80 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


ceiving  many  things,  and  so  much  the  more  caiDable, 
etc.  Q.  E.  D. 

PEOP.  XV. — The  idea  which  constitutes  the 
formal  or  actual  being  of  the  huinan  soul 
is  not  simple,  but  composed  of  many 
ideas. 


Demoxstu. — The  idea  which  constitutes  the  actual 
being  of  the  human  soul  is  the  idea  of  the  body 
(by  Prop.  13),  wliich  (by  Post.  1)  is  composed  of 
many  composite  individuals.  But  the  idea  of  each 
individual  component  of  the  body  is  necessarily 
present  in  Grod  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  8).  Therefore  (by 
Prop.  7)  the  idea  of  the  human  body  is  composed  of 
the  many  ideas  of  these  different  component  parts. 

Q.  E.  D. 

PEOP.  XVI. — The  idea  of  every  mode  by  which 
the  human  body  is  affected  by  external 
bodies,  must  involve  at  one  and  the  same 
time  the  nature  both  of  the  human  body 
and  of  the  external  affecting  body. 

Demoxstr. — For  all  the  modes  by  which  any  body 
is  affected  follow  from  the  nature  both  of  the  affected 
body  and  of  the  body  affecting  it  at  one  and  the 
same  time  (by  Ax.  1 after  the  Coroll,  to  Lemma  3) ; 
wherefore  the  idea  of  the  modes  necessarily  involves 
the  nature  of  both  bodies  (by  Ax.  4,  Part  I.) ; and  so 
the  idea  of  every  mode  by  which  the  human  body  is 
affected  by  an  external  body,  involves  the  nature 
both  of  the  human  body  and  of  the  external  bod}'. 
Q.  E.  D. 


PAPvT  IL — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


81 


Coroll.  1. — Hence  it  follows  : First — that  the  human 
soul  perceives  along  with  the  nature  of  its  own  body 
the  nature  of  many  other  bodies. 

Coroll.  2. — Secondly — it  follows,  that  the  ideas 
we  have  of  external  bodies  rather  indicate  the  con- 
stitution of  onr  own  body  than  the  nature  of  external 
bodies.  This  has  been  explained  by  numerous  ex- 
amples in  the  Appendix  to  Part  I. 

PKOP.  XVII. — If  the  Imuian  body  be  affected 
by  a mode  Avhicli  involves  the  nature  of  an 
external  body,  the  linnian  soul  will  con- 
template that  external  body  as  actually 
existing,  or  as  x^i’csent,  until  the  body  is 
affected  by  some  other  affection  which  ex- 
cludes the  existence  or  presence  of  tliat 
external  body, 

Demonstr. — This  is  obvious.  For  so  long  as  the 
human  body  is  thus  affected,  so  long  will  the  human 
soul  (by  Prop.  12)  contemplate  that  affection  of  the 
body  ; that  is  (by  preceding  Prop.),  it  will  have  an 
idea  of  the  mode  which  exists  in  act  and  which  in- 
volves the  nature  of  the  external  body ; in  other 
words,  it  will  have  an  idea  which  does  not  exclude 
blit  affirms  the  existence  or  presence  of  the  nature 
of  the  external  body.  Thus  will  the  soul  (by  Coroll. 
1 to  preceding  Proj).)  contemplate  an  external  body 
as  actually  existing,  or  as  present,  until  it  is  affected 
by  some  other  affection  which  excludes  it.  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — AYlien  the  human  body  has  once  been 
affected  by  external  bodies  the  soul  has  the  power  of 
(mntemx)lating  them  as  present  afterwards,  though 
they  do  not  then  exist  and  are  not  actually  present. 


82 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


Demoxstu. — So  long  as  external  bodies  determine 
liuid  parts  of  the  human  liody  to  imi^inge  frequently 
niion  soft  parts,  the  surfaces  of  the  latter  will  be 
(dianged  (by  Post.  5);  whereby  it  happens  (see  Ax. 
2 after  the  Coroll,  to  Lemma  8)  that  the  fluid  parts 
will  be  deflected  in  other  directions  than  before,  and 
that  if  afterwards  in  their  spontaneous  movements 
they  impinge  again  upon  the  changed  surfaces  of  the 
soft  parts,  they  will  be  again  and  similarly  deflected, 
])recisely  as  though  they  had  been  impelled  against 
them  by  external  bodies ; and  consequently  so  long 
as  these  reflected  motions  occur,  they  will  affect  the 
human  body  in  the  same  manner  as  did  the  original 
motions  ; — and  it  is  by  such  means  that  the  human  soul 
is  made  to  think  anew  or  repeat  its  thoughts  (by 
Prop.  12), — that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  17),  it  again  con- 
templates the  external  body  as  present ; and  this  it 
Avill  do  as  often  as  the  fluid  parts  of  the  human 
body  by  their  spontaneous  motions  impinge  on  the 
same  surfaces.  Wherefore,  although  the  external 
bodies  by  which  the  human  body  has  once  been 
affected  no  longer  exist,  yet  the  soul  contemplates 
them  as  present,  as  often  as  that  action  of  the  body 
which  we  have  described  is  repeated,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — We  thus  see  how  it  may  be  that  things 
which  do  not  exist  are  frequently  conteinj^lated  as 
present.  And  it  is  possible  that  the  same  effect  may 
happen  from  other  causes.  But  it  suffices  that  I 
should  have  here  shown  one  cause  whereby  I explain 
the  matter  as  well  as  if  I had  shown  a true  cause  ; 
nor  do  I believe  that  I stray  far  from  the  truth, 
seeing  that  among  all  the  Postulates  I assume,  there 
is  scarcely  one  that  is  not  confirmed  by  experience,  or 
that  can  be  called  in  question  after  it  has  been  shown 
that  the  human  body  exists  as  we  ourselves  are  con- 


PAirr  II. — OF  THE  mind  oh  soul. 


83 


scions  that  it  does  (see  Coroll,  to  Prop.  13).  Besides 
this,  we  clearly  understand  (by  the  preceding  Coroll, 
and  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  16)  what  difference  there  is 
between  the  idea,  sny—ex.  gr — of  Peter,  which  con- 
stitutes the  essence  of  the  soul  or  mind  of  Peter  him- 
self, and  the  idea  of  Peter  which  is  ])resent  in  the 
mind  of  another  man — say  of  Paul.  For  the  one  is 
directly  expressive  of  the  essence  of  the  body  of 
Peter  himself,  and  only  involves  his  existence  so  long 
as  Peter  actually  exists;  but  the  other  lather  indi- 
cates the  constitution  of  the  body  of  Paul  than  the 
nature  of  Peter ; and  so  long  as  this  corporeal  consti- 
tution of  Paul  continues  the  mind  of  Paul  will  con- 
template Peter  as  being  present  to  it,  although  Peter 
may  have  ceased  to  exist.  Furthermore,  and  that  we 
may  continue  to  make  use  of  common  language,  we 
shall  call  the  affections  of  the  human  body,  the  ideas 
of  Avliich  represent  external  bodies  as  being  present 
to  us,  images  of  tldiigs^  although  the  tigures  of 
things  are  not  really  .reflected  ; and  when  the  soul 
contemplates  bodies  in  this  way  we  shall  say  that  it 
imagines  them.  And  here,  in  order  that  I may  point 
out  in  what  error  consists,  I desire  it  to  be  observed 
that  the  imaginations  of  the  soul,  considered  in 
themselves,  contain  no  error — o\%  in  other  Avords,  that 
the  soul  errs  not  hecause  of  that  which  is  imagined^ 
but  in  so  far  only  as  it  is  held  to  be  Avithout  or  de- 
])rived  of  the  idea' AAdiich  excludes  the  existence  of 
the  things  it  imagines  to  be  present  to  it.  For  if  the 
soul,  Avhilst  it  imagined  as  present  things  Avhicli  had 
no  existence,  Avas  at  the  same  time  conscious  that 
they  did  not  really  exist,  this  imaginative  power 
Avould  haA^e  to  ])e  ascribed  not  to  imperfection  of  the 
soul  but  to  the  perfection  of  its  nature,  especially  if 
the  faculty  of  imagining  depended  on  its  proper  nr- 


spixoza’s  etjiics. 


S4 

ture  alone, — tliat  is  to  say  (by  Del  7,  Part  I.),  if  tlie 
souls  faculty  of  imagining  was  free. 

PROP.  XYIII.— If  the  limnan  body  has  once 
been  affected  by  two  or  more  bodies  simnl- 
taneonsly  and  the  soul  afterwards  ima- 
gines anything  in  respect  of  one  of  them, 
tlicn  will  it  immediately  remember  the 
other  or  the  others  also. 

Demoxstr. — The  soul  (by  the  preceding  Coroll.) 
imagines  a certain  body  as  present  because  the  lininan 
body  is  affected  and  inliiienced  by  the  traces  of  an  ex- 
ternal body,  in  the  same  way  as  it  would  be  were  any  of 
its  parts  touched  or  impinged  ni^on  by  an  external 
body.  But  (by  onr  hypothesis)  the  body  was  then 
disposed  or  inlluenced  in  such  a way  that  the  soul 
imagined  two  bodies  simnltaneonsly ; therefore, 
whenever  that  disposition  of  the  body  is  reproduced 
the  soul  will  imagine  two  bodies  at  once ; and, 
farther,  whenever  it  imagines  either  of  them,  it  will 
also  immediately  remember  the  other.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciioL.  — By  this  we  clearly  understand  what 
memory  is.  It  is  nothing  more  than  a certain  conca- 
tenation of  ideas  involving  the  nature  of  things  ex- 
ternal to  the  hnivian  body,  which  concatenation  takes 
place  in  the  mind  according  to  the  order  and  conca- 
tenation of  the  affections  of  the  linman  body.  I say, 
in  the  first  place^  that  memory  is  merely  a concaiena- 
tion  of  ideas  involving  the  nature  of  things  external 
to  the  body,  but  not  of  ideas  which  explain  the  na- 
ture of  these  things ; for  there  are,  indeed  (by  Prop. 
16),  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the  human  body  which 
involve  the  nature  both  of  that  and  of  external 
bodies.  I say,  secondly^  that  this  concatenation  of 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL.  8o 

ideas  takes  j)lac3  according  to  tlie  order  and  concate- 
nation of  the  affections  of  the  human  body,  so  as  to 
distinguish  it  from  that  other  concatenation  whicli  - 
takes  place  according  to  the  order  of  the  understand- 
ing, whereby  the  soul  perceives  things  by  their  first 
causes,  and  is  the  same  in  all  men.  And  hence, 
further,  we  clearly  understand  why  the  soul  from  the 
thought  of  one  thing  often  immediately  passes  to  the 
thought  of  another  which  has  no  resemblance  to  the 
first ; for  example,  a Roman,  from  the  thought  of 
the  word  poiiium  immediately  thinks  of  an  apple, 
which  has  no  resemblance  to  the  articulate  sound  of 
the  word  apple,  nor  anything  in  common  with  it,  ex- 
cept that  his  body  had  often  been  affected  by  those 
two  things  at  once  (the  word  or  its  sound  and  an 
apple) — that  is,  he  had  often  heard  the  word  poinum 
at  the  same  time  that  he  saw  the  fruit  it  signified  ; 

— and  it  is  in  this  way  that  the  mind  of  man  passes 
from  one  thought  to  another,  according  as  custom  or 
habit  has  ordered  or  arranged  the  images  of  things  in 
Ins  body.  A soldier,  for  instance,  when  he  sees  the 
foot-prints  of  a horse  in  the  sand,  from  thoughts  of 
the  horse  passes  to  thoughts  of  its  rider,  thence  to 
thoughts  of  war,  etc.  ; wliilst  a peasant,  from 
thoughts  of  the  horse,  would  pass  to  thoughts  of 
fields,  ploughs,  etc.  ; — and  so  each  one,  according  o.s 
he  is  accustomed  to  connect  and  concatenate  the  im- 
ages of  things,  passes  from  one  thought  to  another. 

PROP.  XIX. — The  limnan  soul  does  not  knoAv 
the  human  body  itself ; neither  does  it 
knoAV  that  the  body  exists  except  throiigli 
the  ideas  of  the*  affections  by  wliich  the 
body  is  affected  or  influenced. 


86 


snxozA's  ETHICS. 


Bemoxstr. — For  tli3  liiiman  soul  is  tli3  very  idea 
or  consciousness  of  tlie  liiirnan  body  (by  Prop.  i:3), 
wliich  is  verily  in  God  (by  Prop.  9),  in  so  far  as  God 
'is  considered  as  affected  by  another  idea  of  an  indi- 
vidual thing  ; or  because  (by  Post.  4)  the  human  body 
has  need  of  many  other  bodies  by  which  it  is,  as  it 
were,  continually  regenerated  ; and  as  the  order  and 
connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  (by  Prop.  7)  as  the 
order  and  connection  of  causes,  so  will  this  idea  be 
in  God  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  to  be  affected 
by  the  ideas  of  many  individual  things.  God,  there- 
fore, has  the  idea  of  the  human  body— or  God  cog- 
nizes the  human  body  in  so  far  as  God  is  affected  by 
many  other  ideas,  and  not  as  God  constitutes  the  na- 
ture of  the  human  soul  ; — in  other  words  (by  Coroll, 
to  Pi'op.  11),  the  human  soul  does  not  cognize  the  liu- 
nian  body.  But  the  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the 
body  are  in  God  in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the  na- 
ture of  the  human  soul,  that  is,  the  human  soul  j^er- 
ceives  these  same  affections  (by  Prop.  12)  and  conse- 
(piently  (by  Prop.  16)  the  human  body  itself ; and 
further  (by  Prop.  17),  perceives  it  as  existing  in  act. 
The  human  soul,  therefore,  perceives  the  human  body 
itself  only  in  so  far  as  it  perceives  the  ideas  of  the  af- 
fections by  Avhich  the  body  is  affected,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XX. — There  is  also  present  in  God  an 
idea  or  consciousness  of  the  linnian  soul, 
and  this  follows  from  and  is  referred  to 
God  in  the  same  way  as  the  idea  or  con- 
sciousness of  the  human  body. 

Bemdxstr. — Thouglit  is  an  attribute  of  God  (by 
Prop.  1),  and  so  (by  Prop.  8)  there  is  necessarily  in 
God  an  idea  of  God  as  well  as  of  all  of  God’s  affec- 


PAKT  II.— OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


8T 


tions,  and  consequently  (by  Prop.  11)  tlie  idea  of  tlie 
lininan  soul  also.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  this 
idea  or  consciousness  of  the  human  soul  exists  in  God 
considered  as  infinite,  but  only  as  affected  by  another 
idea  of  a particular  thing  (by  Prop.  9).  But  the 
order  and  connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  as  the 
order  and  connection  of  causes  (by  Prop.  7)  ; and  it 
follows,  therefore,  that  this  idea  or  consciousness 
of  the  soul  is  present  in  and  is  referred  to  God  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  idea  or  consciousness  of  the 
body.  Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  XXI. — This  idea  of  the  soul  is  united 
with  the  soul  in  the  same  way  as  the  soul 
itself  is  united  with  the  body. 

Demonstr. — We  have  shown  that  the  mind  or  soul 
is  united  with  the  body  in  the  fact  that  the  body  is 
the  object  of  the  soul  {^mde  Props.  12  and  13).  Con- 
sequently the  idea  of  the  soul  must,  in  like  manner, 
be  united  with  its  object — that  is,  with  the  soul  itself 
— in  the  same  way  as  tlie  soul  is  united  with  the  body. 

Q.  E.  D. 

ScnoL. — This  proposition  will,  perhaps,  be  more 
clearly  understood  by  what  has  been  said  in  the 
Scholium  to  Proposition  7,  where  we  have  shown  that 
the  idea  of  the  body  and  the  body  itself — that  is  to 
say  (by  Prop.  13),  the  soul  and  the  body  are  one  and 
the  same  individual  thing,  conceived  now  under  the 
attribute  of  thought,  and  now  under  that  of  exten- 
sion ; — wherefore  the  idea  of  the  soul,  and  the  soul 
itself,  are  one  and  the  same  thing  conceived  under 
one  and  the  same  attribute,  namely — that  of  thought. 
I say  that  the  idea  of  the  soul,  and  the  soul  itself,  are 
X) resent  in  God  by  the  same  necessity,  and  follow  from 


88 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


the  same  power  of  thinking.  For  the  idea  of  mind 
or  sonl,  that  is  to  say — the  idea  of  an  idea — is  noth- 
ing else  than  the  form  or  reality  of  that  idea,  in  so 
far  considered  as  it  is  a mode  of  thought  without  re- 
lation to  its  object ; — ^for  so  soon  as  any  one  knows 
a thing,  he  himself  knows  that  he  knows  it,  and  at 
the  same  time  knows  that  he  knows  what  he  knows, 
and  so  on  to  infinity.  But  of  this  more  hereafter. 

PROP.  XXII. — The  liuiiiaii  soul  not  only  per- 
ceives the  affections  of  the  body,  but  also 
the  ideas  of  these  affections. 

Demoxstr. — The  ideas  of  the  ideas  of  the  affections 
follow  in  Grod  in  the  same  way,  and  are  referred  to 
God  in  tlie  same  way,  as  the  ideas  themselves  of 
the  affections, — the  demonstration  of  this  being  the 
same  as  in  Prop.  20.  But  the  ideas  of  the  affections 
of  the  body  are  in  the  human  soul  (by  Prop.  12)  ; 
that  is,  they  are  in  God,  seeing  that  God  constitutes 
the  essence  of  the  human  soul  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11). 
Therefore  the  ideas  of  these  ideas  will  be  in  God  in  so 
far  as  God  has  the  idea  or  consciousness  of  the  hu- 
man soul  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  21),  these  ideas 
are  present  in  the  human  soul  itself,  which  conse- 
quently not  only  perceives  the  affections  of  the  body, 
but  also  the  ideas  of  tliese  affections,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXIII. — The  soul  has  no  knowledge 
or  consciousness  of  itself  save  only  in  so 
ffir  as  it  perceives  ideas  of  the  affections  of 
the  body. 

Bemoxstr. — The  idea  or  consciousness  of  the  soul 
(by  Proj).  20)  follows  in  and  is  referred  to  God  in  the 


PAKT  II. — OF  THE  MIXD  OE  SOUL. 


89 


same  way  as  is  the  idea  or  consciousness  of  the  body. 
But  since  (by  Prop.  19)  the  human  soul  does  not 
know  or  is  not  conscious  of  the  human  body  itself, 
that  is  (by  the  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11),  inasmuch  as  con- 
sciousness of  the  human  body  is  not  referred  to  God 
in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the  nature  of  the  human 
soul,  therefore  neither  is  consciousness  of  the  soul 
referred  to  God  in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the 
essence  of  the  soul ; and  so  and  in  so  far  (by  the 
same  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11)  the  human  soul  does  not 
know  or  is  not  conscious  of  itself.  Again  : tlie  ideas 
of  the  affections  by  which  the  human  body  is  affected 
involve  the  nature  of  the  body  itself  (by  Prop.  16)  ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  13),  they  agree  with  the 
nature  of  the  soul.  Wherefore  the  consciousness  of 
these  ideas  necessarily  involves  the  consciousness  of 
the  soul.  But  (by  the  preceding  Prop.)  the  conscious- 
ness of  these  ideas  is  in  the  soul  itself.  Therefore 
the  soul  knows  or  is  conscious  of  itself  only  in  so  far 
as  it  perceives  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the  body. 

Q.  E.  D. 

PKOP.  XXIT. — The  liuman  soul  does  not  in- 
Yolve  adeq[iiate  knowledge  of  the  parts 
composing  the  limn  an  body. 

Demoxstr. — The  parts  composing  the  human  body 
do  not  pertain  to  the  essence  of  the  body  itself,  ex- 
cept in  so  far  as  they  mutually  communicate  their 
motions  to  one  another  in  some  certain  measure  {;mde 
Def.  following  the  Coroll,  to  Lemma  3),  and  not  in  so 
far  as  they  can  be  considered  as  individuals  without 
relation  to  the  body  of  which  they  are  parts.  For  the 
parts  of  the  human  body  (by  Post.  1)  are  themselves 
highly  composite  individuals,  the  parts  of  which 


90 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


(by  Lemma  4)  may  be  completely  detached  from  the 
body,  its  nature  and  form  being  still  retained,  and 
their  motions  communicated  in  other  ways  to  other 
bodies  (see  Ax.  2,  after  Lemma  3).  Therefore  (by 
Prop.  3)  the  idea  or  consciousness  of  each  part  will  be 
in  Cxod,  and  this  (by  Prop.  9)  in  so  far  as  God  is  con- 
sidered to  be  alfected  by  another  idea  of  an  individ- 
ual thing,  Avliich  thing  on  its  part  is  jDrior  in  the  order 
of  nature  (by  Prop.  7).  And  the  same  is  to  be  said 
of  each  part  of  the  individual  thing  which  is  itself 
one  of  the  component  parts  of  the  body  ; so  that  con- 
sciousness of  each  of  the  parts  composing  the  human 
body  exists  in  God  in  so  far  as  God  is  alfected  by  the 
ideas  of  a number  of  things,  and  not  merely  and 
in  so  far  as  God  has  an  idea  of  the  human  body — 
that  is  (by  Prop.  13),  an  idea  which  constitutes  the 
nature  of  the  human  soul ; consequently  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  11)  the  human  soul  does  not  involve  ade- 
quate knowledge  of  the  parts  composing  the  human 
body.  Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  XXY. — The  idea  of  each  affection  of 
the  luimaii  body  does  not  involve  adequate 
knowledge  of  an  external  body. 

Dehonstr. — We  have  shown  {vide  Prop.  10)  that 
the  idea  of  an  affection  of  the  human  body  involves 
the  nature  of  an  external  body  in  so  far  as  that 
external  body  itself  determines  the  human  body 
in  some  certain  manner.  And  inasmuch  as  an  exter- 
nal body  is  an  individual  thing  ]iot  referable  to 
the  human  body,  the  idea  or  knowledge  of  it  is  iii 
God  (by  Prop.  9)  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  to  be 
affected  by  the  idea  of  another  thing  which  (by  Prop. 


PART  II.— OF  THE  MIXD  OK  SOUL. 


91 


7)  is  prior  in  nature  to  that  external  body.  Where- 
fore adequate  knowledge  of  the  external  body  is  not 
in  God  in  so  far  considered  as  God  has  an  idea  of  an 
affection  of  the  human  body  ; or  the  idea  of  an  affec- 
tion of  the  luiman  body  does  not  involve  adequate 
knowledge  of  an  external  body.  q.  e.  d. 


PROP.  XXVI. — The  human  soul  perceives  no 
external  body  as  actually  existing,  except 
through  ideas  of  affections  of  its  own 
body. 


De.uoxstii. — If  the  human  body  is  in  no  way 
affected  by  an  external  body,  then  (by  Prop.  7) 
neither  is  the  idea  of  the  human  body,  that  is  (by 
Prop.  13),  neither  is  the  idea  of  the  human  sonl  in 
any  way  affected  by  the  existence  of  such  external 
body, — in  other  words,  the  sonl  in  no  way  perceives 
the  existence  of  the  external  body.  But  in  so  far  as 
the  human  body  is  in  any  way  affected  by  an  ex- 
ternal body,  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  16  and  its  Coroll.)  .the 
human  sonl  does  perceive  the  external  body.  q.  e.  d. 

CoiiOLL. — In  so  far  as  the  liuman  sonl  merely 
imagines  an  external  body,  in  so  far  it  has  no 
adequate  knowledge  of  it. 

Demoxstk. — When  the  human  soul  contemplates 
external  bodies  through  ideas  of  the  affections  of 
its  own  body,  we  say  that  it  imagines  them  {;inde 
Schol.  to  Prop.  17) ; nor  can  the  sonl  (by  preceding 
Prop.)  in  any  other  way  imagine  external  bodies 
as  actually  existing.  Consequently  (by  Prop.  2o),  in 
so  far  as  the  sonl  iniaffiRes  an  external  body  it 
has  no  adequate  knowledge  of  it.  q.  e.  u. 


92 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  XXVII. — The  idea  of  any  aftectioii  of 
the  liiiinaii  body  does  not  involve  ade- 
quate knowledge  of  the  human  body  itself. 

Di-lvoxstu. — E\"ery  idea  of  every  affection  of  the 
liuman  body  involves  the  natnre  of  the  human  bod}', 
in  so  far  as  the  human  body  itself  is  considered  as 
affected  in  a certain  manner  {vide  Prop.  16).  But  in 
so  far  as  the  human  body  is  an  individual  thing  that 
may  be  affected  in  many  different  ways,  its  idea  does 
not  involve  adequate  knowledge  of  the  human  body 
itself  {vide  Demonstr.  of  Prop.  25). 

PROP.  XXVIII. — Ideas  of  the  affections  of  the 
human  body,  in  so  far  as  they  are  referred 
to  the  liuman  soul  only,  are  not  clear  and 
distinct,  but  confused. 

Demoxstu. — For  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the 
human  body  involve  the  nature  of  external  bodies  as 
well  as  of  the  human  body  itself  (by  Prop.  16 j ; and 
not  only-  the  nature  of  the  human  body  but  of  its 
parts  also  ; for  affections  are  modes  (by  Post.  3)  by 
which  the  parts  of  the  body  and  consequently  the 
whole  of  the  body  are  affected.  But  (by  Props.  24 
and  25)  adequate  knowledge  of  external  bodies  as 
well  as  of  the  parts  which  compose  the  human  body 
is  in  God,  not  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  as 
affected  by  the  human  soul,  but  in  so  far  as  God  is 
considered  as  affected  by  other  ideas.  The  ideas  of 
these  affections,  therefore,  in  so  far  as  they  are  re- 
ferred to  the  human  soul  alone,  are  like  consequences 
without  premises,  that  is — obviously — they  are  con- 
fused ideas.  Q.  e.  d. 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


93 


SciroL. — The  idea  which  constitutes  tlie  nature  of 
the  hiinian  soul,  when  considered  in  itself  alone,  is 
in  the  same  manner  demonstrated  to  be  not  clear  and 
distinct;  as  are  also  the  idea  of  the  human  soul  and 
the  ideas  of  the  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the  human 
body,  in  so  far  as  they  are  referred  to  the  soul 
alone, — as  will  be  readily  perceived  b}"  every  one. 


PROP.  XXTX. — The  idea  of  the  idea  of  any  of 
the  affections  of  the  lininan  body  does  not 
involve  ade(][nate  knowledge  of  the  lininan 
soul. 

Demoxstil — For  the  idea  of  an  affection  of  the 
human  body  (by  Prop.  27)  does  not  involve  adequate 
knowledge  of  the  body  itself,  or  does  not  adequately 
express  its  nature  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  13),  it  does  not 
adequately  agree  with  the  nature  of  the  soul.  There- 
fore (l)y  Ax.  6,  Part  1)  the  idea  of  that  idea  does  not 
adequately  express  the  nature  of  the  human  soul, — 
in  other  words,  it  does  not  involve  adequate  know- 
ledge of  it.  Q.  E.  n. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  human  soul  so 
often  as  it  perceives  things  out  of  the  common  order 
of  nature  has  no  adequate  knowledge  either  of  itself, 
or  of  its  own  body,  or  of  external  bodies,  but  only  a 
confused  and  defective  knowledge.  For  the  soul 
does  not  know  or  is  not  conscious  of  itself,  save  in  so 
far  as  it  perceives  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the  body 
(by  Prop.  23) ; and  the  body  does  not  perceive  or  is 
not  conscious  of  itself  (by  Prop.  19)  save  through 
the  ideas  themselves  of  its  affections,  by  which  alone 
also  (by  Prop.  26)  it  perceives  external  bodies.  Thus, 
therefore,  in  so  far  as  the  soul  has  these  ideas  it  has 


94 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


no  adequato  knowledgo  either  of  itself  (by  Prop.  29), 
or  of  its  own  body  (by  Proii.  27),  or  of  external 
bodies  (by  Prop.  25),  but  only  a confused  and  muti- 
lated knowledge  (by  Prop.  23,  and  its  Scliol).  Q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — I say  expressly  that  so  often  as  the  soul 
perceives  things  out  of  the  common  order  of  nature 
it  has  not  an  adequate  but  only  a confused  know- 
ledge either  of  itself,  or  of  its  own  body,  or  of 
external  bodies  ; — that  is,  so  often  as,  externally  to 
itself  and  by  the  fortuitous  occurrence  of  things  the 
soul  is  determined  to  contemplate  this  or  that  thing— 
and  not  so  often  as  internally  and  by  reason  of  its 
contemplating  many  things  simultaneously  the  soul 
is  determined  to  perceive  or  understand  their  agree- 
ments, differences,  and  oppositions.  For  so  often  as 
it  is  internally  disposed  in  this,  that,  or  some  other- 
way,  so  often  does  it  contemplate  things  clearly  and 
distinctly,  as  I shall  show  further  on. 

PROP.  XXX. — Of  the  duration  of  our  body  Ave 
can  liavc  only  a very  inadequate  know- 
ledge. 

Demoxstu. — The  duration  of  our  body  does  not 
depend  on  its  essence  (by  Ax.  1),  nor  yet  on  the 
absolute  nature  of  God  (by  Prop.  21,  Part  I.) ; but 
(by  Prop.  28)  it  is  determined  in  its  existence  and 
action  by  causes  such  as  are  themselves  determined 
by  still  other  causes  to  existence  and  action  in  a 
certain  determinate  manner,  and  these  by  yet  other 
causes,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  The  duration  of  our 
body  therefore  depends  on  the  common  order  of 
nature  and  the  constitution  of  things.  But  adequate 
knowledge  of  the  way  and  manner  in  which  things 
are  constituted  is  lii  God  in  so  far  as  God  has  ideas  of 


PAirr  ir.— OF  the  mixd  op  soul. 


9r) 

all  these  things,  and  not  in  so  far  as  Grod  has  an  idea 
of  the  human  body  alone  (by  Coroll,  to  Pro]).  9). 
Wherefore  the  knowledge  of  the  duration  of  onr 
body  is  very  inadequate  in  God,  in  so  far  as  God  is 
considered  to  constitute  the  nature  of  the  huniaii 
soul  only,  that  is  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11)  this  know- 
ledge is  very  inadequate  in  our  soul.  q.  e.  d. 


PROP.  XXXI. — We  can  have  only  a very  in- 
adequate knowledge  of  tlie  duration  of  in- 
dividual things  external  to  ourselves. 

Pemoxstr. — For  each  individual  thing  must,  like 
the  liuman  body,  be  determined  to  exist  and  act  in  a 
certain  determinate  manner  by  some  other  individual 
thing,  and  this  again  by  another,  and  so  on  to 
infinity  (by  Proj:).  28,  Part  I.)  But  as  Ave  have  in 
the  preceding  proposition  demonstrated  from  this 
common  ])roperty  of  individual  things  that  Ave  have 
only  a very  inadequate  knoAvledge  of  the  duration 
of  our  own  body,  therefore  AA^e  must  come  to  the 
same  conclusion  in  respect  of  the  duration  of  in- 
dividual external  things,  viz.,  that  AA^e  have  and  can 
have  only  a very  inadequate  knoAAdedge  of  their  dura- 
tion. Q.  E.  I). 

Coroll. — Hence  it  folloAVs  that  all  individual 
things  are  contingent  and  corruptible  ; for  of  their 
duration  Ave  can  have  only  a A^ery  inadequate  knoAA’^- 
ledge  (by  preceding  Prop.) ; and  this  is  Avhat  Ave  are 
to  understand  by  the  contingency  and  i)ossible  cor- 
ruptibility of  things  {tride  Schol.  1 to  Prop.  33,  Part 
I.) ; for  (by  Prop.  29,  Part  I.)  except  this  there  is 
nothing  contingent. 


96 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


) 


PROP.  XXX IL — All  ideas  in  so  far  as  they 
are  referred  to  Cfod,  are  true. 

Demoxsth. — For  all  ideas  that  are  in  God  agree 
perfectly  with  their  ideates  or  objects  (by  Coroll.  to 
Prop.  7),  and  are  therefore  true  (by  Ax.  6,  Part  I.) 

Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  XXXIII. — There  is  nothing  positive  in 
ideas  by  reason  of  which  they  can  be  said 
to  be  false. 

Demoxstk. — If  yon  deny  this,  try  to  conceive,  if 
possible,  a positive  mode  of  thought  which  consti- 
tutes a form  of  error  or  falsity.  Such  a mode  of 
thought  could  not  be  in  God  (by  preceding  Prop.) ; 
but  neither  could  it  be  or  be  conceived  to  be  out  of 
God  (by  Prop.  15,  Part  I.)  Therefore  there  is  nothing 
positive  in  ideas  by  reason  of  which  they  can  be  said 
to  be  false,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXXIV. — Every  idea  which  in  ns  is 
absolute,  or  adequate  and  perfect,  is  true. 

Demoxstr. — When  we  say  that  we  have  an  ade- 
quate and  ]Derfect  idea,  we  say  nothing  more  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop,  11)  than  that  in  God,  in  so  far  as  God 
constitutes  the  essence  of  our  soul,  there  is  an  ade- 
quate and  perfect  idea  ; consequently  (by  Prop.  32), 
we  say  nothing  more  than  that  such  an  idea  is  true. 
Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  XXXV. — Falsity  consists  in  the  priva- 
tion of  knowledge  which  inadequate  or  im- 
perfect and  confused  ideas  involve. 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OP  SOUL. 


97 


De3IONSTk. — Tliere  is  nothing  positive  in  ideas 
which  constitutes  the  form  or  reality  of  falsehood 
(by  Prop.  33).  But  falsity  cannot  consist  in  abso- 
lute i)i’ivation  (for  souls,  not  bodies,  are  said  to 
err  and  to  be  deceived! ; nor  yet  in  absolute  ignor- 
ance,—for  to  err,  and  to  be  ignorant,  are  different 
things.  The  falsity,  therefore,  consists  in  that  priva- 
tion of  knowledge  which  an  inadequate  cognition  of 
things,  or  inadequate  and  confused  ideas,  involves. 

Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — In  the  Scholium  to  Proposition  17  I have 
explained  the  reasons  why  error  consists  in  a priva- 
tion of  knowledge.  But  for  the  better  elucidation  of 
this  matter  I shall  here  adduce,  as  an  example,  the 
fact  that  men  deceive  themselves  when  they  suppose 
they  are  free.  But  this  opinion  consists  in  this 
alone : — that  they  are  conscious  of  their  actions,  but 
ignorant  of  the  causes  which  determine  them.  The 
idea  of  freedom,  therefore,  comes  of  men  not  know- 
ing the  cause  of  their  actions  ; for  to  say  that  human 
actions  depend  on  the  is  to  use  language  to 

which  no  idea  is  attached.  For  what  lolll  is  and  how 
it  moves  the  body  no  one  knows  ; and  they  who  tell 
us  that  the  imll  is  the  seat  and  habitation  of  the 
soul,  either  move  us  to  laughter  or  excite  our  dis- 
gust. Thus,  when  we  look  at  the  sun  we  may  ima- 
gine, perhaps,  that  it  is  only  some  few  hundred  paces 
distant  from  us — an  error  which  does  not  consist 
solely  in  imagining  such  a distance,  but  in  this  : that 
at  the  moment  of  imagining  it  we  are  ignorant  of  the 
true  distance  and  of  the  cause  of  our  imagination. 
For  afterwards,  and  when  we  know  that  the  sun  is 
much  more  than  six  hundred  terrestrial  diameters 
distant  from  us,  we,  nevertheless,  continue  to  imagine 
it  to  be  quite  near  ; for  we  do  not  imagine  the  sun’s 


OS  spi:noza’s 

]>roximity  to  us  because  we  are  ignoiant  of  its  true 
distance,  but  because  tlie  affection  of  our  body  in- 
volves the  essence  of  the  sun  in  so  far  only  as  our 
body  is  affected  by  it. 

PROP.  XXXYI. — Inadequate  and  (‘onfnsed 
ideas  follow  by  the  same  necessity  as  do 
adequate  or  clear  and  distinct  ideas. 

De3[Oxstk. — All  ideas  are  in  God  (by  Prop.  15, 
Part  I.),  and  in  so  far  as  they  are  referred  to  God 
they  are  true  (by  Prop.  32)  and  adequate  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  7).  Ideas,  therefore,  are  not  inadequate  or 
confused  save  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  referred  to 
some  individual  soul  {;^ide  Props.  24  and  28).  Con- 
sequently all  ideas,  whether  adequate  or  inadequate, 
follow  by  the  same  necessity  [ride  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  6).  Q.  E.  D. 

l^ROP.  XXXYII. — That  which  is  coininon  to 
all  things  (for  this  rh/c^Leinina  2 above), 
and  Avliieli  is  equally  in  a part  as  in  the 
whole,  does  not  constitute  the  essence  of 
any  j^^irtieular  thing. 

Demoxstu. — If  this  be  denied,  conceive,  if  it  be 
possible,  that  this  common  property  constitutes  the 
essence  of  some  i:)articular  thing — say  the  essence  of 
B.  Then,  without  B,  this  common  jmoperty  could 
neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be  (b}"  Def.  2).  But 
this  is  against  the  hypothesis.  Therefore  it  does  not 
belong  to  the  essence  of  B,  neither  does  it  constitute 
the  essence  of  any  other  particular  thing,  q.  e.  d. 

l*ROP.  XXXYIII. — That  which  is  coniinon  to 
all  things,  and  which  is  equally  in  a x^art 


PAUT  II.— OF  THE  MIND  Oli  SOUL. 


99 


as  ill  tlie  whole,  can  only  he  conceived 
ade(|nately. 

1) e:\ioxstp. — Let  A be  something  which  is  common 
to  all  bodies,  and  which  is  equally  in  a part  as  in  the 
whole  of  each  body  ; — I say  then  that  A can  only  be 
conceived  adequately.  For  the  idea  of  A Avill  neces- 
sarily be  adequate  in  God  (by  Coioll.  to  Prop.  7) 
both  in  so  far  as  God  has  an  idea  of  the  human  body 
and  also  ideas  of  its  affections,  which  (by  Props.  10, 

2d,  and  27)  partially  involve  the  nature  of  the  human 

bodv  as  well  as  of  external  bodies  ; — in  other  words  ^ 

(by  Props.  12  and  13),  the  idea  A will  necessarily  be 

adequate  in  God  in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the 

human  soul  or  has  ideas  Avliich  are  in  the  human 

soul.  The  soul  therefore  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11) 

necessarily  perceives  A adequately  ; and  this  it  does 

in  so  far  as  it  perceives  itself,  its  own  body,  or  any 

external  body  nor  can  A be  conceived  in  any  other 

manner.  (^  e.  d. 

Cop.OLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  there  are  some 
ideas  or  notions  common  to  all  men.  For  (by 
Lemma  2)  all  bodies  agree  in  some  things,  which  (bv 
preceding  Prop.)  must  be  perceived  adequately,  or 
clearly  and  distinctly,  by  every  one. 

PKOP.  XXXIX. — That  which  is  common  and 
proper  to  the  limnan  body  and  to  certain 
external  bodies  by  which  the  human  body 
is  wont  to  be  affected,  and  wliicli  is  equally 
in  eacli  of  the  parts  as  well  as  in  tlie  whole 
of  each  of  these  bodies,  the  soul  will  have 
an  adequate  idea  of. 

Demoxstu. — Let  A be  that  Avhich  is  common  and 


100 


spixoza's  ethics. 


])roper  to  tlie  luiman  body  and  to  certain  external 
bodies,  and  which  is  alike  present  in  both,  and  wliicli, 
tinall}^  is  equally  present  in  a part  as  in  the  whole  of 
each  external  body  : then  Avill  there  be  in  God  an 
adequate  idea  of  A (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  7),  both  in  so 
far  as  God  has  an  idea  of  the  human  body  and  ideas 
of  the  external  bodies  in  question.  Let  us  now  su im- 
pose the  human  body  to  be  affected  by  an  external 
body  through  that  which  it  has  in  common  with  it, 
namely,  A ; then  the  idea  of  this  affection  will  in- 
volve the  property  of  A (by  Prop.  16) ; and  conse- 
quently (by  same  Coroll,  to  Prop.  7)  the  idea  of  this 
affection,  in  so  far  as  it  involves  the  property  of  A, 
will  be  adequate  in  God  in  so  far  as  God  is  affected 
hy  the  idea  of  the  human  body  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  13), 
in  so  far  as  God  constitutes  the  nature  of  the  human 
soul ; therefore  (by  Coroll,  to  Prox).  11)  this  idea  is 
also  adequate  in  the  human  soul.  q.  e.  d. 

ConoLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  soul  is  the 
more  apt  to  perceive  a greater  number  of  things 
adequately  according  as  its  body  has  more  things  in 
common  with  other  bodies. 


PROP.  XL. — Whatsoever  ideas  follow  in  the 
soul  from  ideas  which  are  themselves 
adequate,  arc  also  adequate. 

Demoxstu. — This  is  obvious.  For  when  we  say 
that  in  the  human  soul  an  idea  follows  from  ideas 
that  are  themselves  adequate  in  it,  we  say  nothing 
more  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11)  than  that  there  is  pre- 
sent in  the  Divine  intelligence  an  idea  of  which  God 
is  the  cause,  not  as  God  is  infinite,  nor  as  affected  by 
the  ideas  of  many  individual  things,  but  only-  in  so 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


101 


far  as  God  constitutes  tlie  essence  of  tlie  human 
soul. 

SciiOL.  1. — I have  explained  the  causes  of  the 
notions  that  are  called  common  and  which  are  the 
fundamentals  of  onr  reasonings.  But  other  causes 
of  certain  axioms  or  notions  are  assigned,  which  it 
seems  desirable  to  explain  by  this  onr  method  ; for 
then  it  will  be  seen  what  notions  are  more  useful  than 
others,  and  what  are  of  scarcely  any  use  at  all ; also, 
which  of  them  are  common,  and  which  of  them  are 
clear  and  distinct  to  those  only  who  are  free  from 
prejudices;  and,  finally,  which  of  them  are  ill- 
founded.  Besides  this,  the  origin  of  those  notions 
Avhich  are  called  secondary ^ and  consequently  of  the 
axioms  founded  upon  them,  will  be  made  to  api3ear  ; 
and  several  other  things  concerning  Avhich  I have 
occasionally  medilated.  But  as  I intend  to  discuss 
these  in  another  treatise,  and  fearing  to  displease  the 
fastidious  by  too  great  prolixity,  I have  decided  to 
pass  the  subject  by  for  the  present.  HoweAxr,  and 
that  I may  not  seem  to  omit  here  anything  that  Avas 
necessary  to  be  knoAvn,  I shall  brielly  mention  the 
causes  from  AAdiich  such  transcendental  terms  as 
Entity,  Thing,  Something,  have  derived  their  origin. 
These  terms,  then,  have  originated  in  this  : that  the 
human  body,  because  limited,  is  only  capable  of 
forming  to  itself  distinct  images  of  things  AAdthin  cer- 
tain limits  as  to  number  at  any  one  time.  (What  an 
image  is  I have  explained  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  17.) 
If  this  limit  as  to  number  is  exceeded,  the  images 
begin  to  be  confused  ; and  if  it  is  greatly  exceeded, 
then  they  all  become  comj)letely  confounded  together. 
That  this  should  be  so  appears  from  the  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  17,  and  by  Prop.  18,  Avherein  it  is  shoAvn  that 
the  human  mind  or  soul  is  only  capable  of  imagining 


102 


spixoza's  ethics.  ' 


siiimltaneously  and  with  distinctness  so  many  bodies 
as  there  can  be  images  simnltaneonsl}"  formed  in  the 
])ody.  Bnt  when  the  images  in  the  body  are  com- 
pletely confounded  together,  then  the  mind  will  also 
imagine  all  bodies  confusedly  and  without  distinc- 
tion, and  will  comprehend  them  under  a single  attri- 
bute as  it  were,  namely,  under  the  attribute  of  Entity, 
Thing,  etc.  This  may  also  be  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  images  do  not  always  present  themselves  to  us 
Avith  equal  force  ; and  also  from  other  analogous 
causes  which  there  is  no  need  to  explain  here,  since 
Avith  the  object  Ave  have  in  vieAv  it  Avill  be  enough  if 
Ave  consider  one  only.  All  of  them,  indeed,  lead  to 
the  conclusion  that  such  terms  signify  ideas  confused 
to  the  last  degree.  It  is,  further,  from  like  causes 
that  the  notions  called  iinixersal,  such  as  Man, 
- Horse,  Dog,  etc.,  have  arisen.  That  is  to  say,  so 
many  images — ex.  gr.  of  men — are  formed  simulta- 
neously in  the  human  body  that  they  exceed  the 
power  of  imagining,  if  not  AAdiolly,  yet  to  such  an 
extent  that  the  particular  minor  differences  of  each 
man  (such  as  complexion,  stature,  etc.),  as  AA^ell  as 
the  exact  number  of  men,  cannot  be  imagined  Ih'  the 
soul ; and  that  only  in  Avhich  they  all  agree,  in  so  far 
as  they  affect  the  body,  is  imagined  distinctly.  The 
body,  indeed,  is  chiefly  affected  by  each  individual 
man,  but  the  affection  is  expressed  by  the  term  onen^ 
a Avord  by  A\diich.  through  our  inability  to  imagine 
any  deffnite  number  of  individuals,  aa^o  predicate  an 
inffnity  of  them.  It  is  to  be  observed,  hoAvever,  that 
these  notions  are  not  formed  by  all  men  in  the  same 
AA^ay,  but  vary  in  each  one  according  as  the  body  has 
been  frequently  affected,  and  as  the  soul  imagines 
or  recollects  Avith  facility.  For  example,  they  AAdio 
have  usually  contemplated  man  Avith  admiration 


PAKT  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


103 


for  liis  stature,  understand  by  the  word  man  an 
animal  with  an  erect  body ; and  they  who  have 
usually  contemplated  him  under  some  other  charac- 
teristic, form  some  other  common  image  of  him,  as, 
for  instance,  a laughing  animal,  a two-legged  animal, 
one  without  feathers,  a rational  animal,  etc., — and  so 
each  one,  according  to  his  bodily  disposition,  forms 
for  himself  universal  images  of  things.  It  is 
no  wonder,  therefore,  that  so  many  controversies 
should  have  arisen  among  the  philosophers  who  have 
sought  to  explain  natural  things  by  their  images 
alone. 

SciioL.  2. — From  all  that  has  been  said  above  it 
clearly  appears  that  we  perceive  many  things  and 
form  universal  notions:  1st,  from  singular  or  indi- 
vidual things  altered  to  us  by  our  senses  and  repre- 
sented confusedly  and  Avithout  order  to  the  under- 
standing {mde  Coroll,  to  Pro^i.  29).  Such  percep- 
tions, therefore,  I am  accustomed  -to  designate  as 
knowledge  from  vacfue  experience.  2nd,  from  signs  ; 
ex.  gr.  because  from  certain  Avords  Avhich  Ave  hear  or 
read  Ave  remember  things  and  form  certain  ideas  of 
the  Avords  like  to  those  by  Avhich  Ave  imagine  the 
things  themselves  {pide  Schol.  to  Proju  18).  Both  of 
these  modes  of  contemplating  things  I shall  hereafter 
ciiW  Jinoicledge  of  the  Jirst  land — as  opinion  or  ima- 
gination. 3rd,  and  lastly,  as  AA^e  have  common  notions 
and  adequate  ideas  of  the  properties  of  things  {ride 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  38  and  Prop.  39  and  its  Coroll.,  and 
this  Prop.  40),  I shall  speak  of  these  as  reason,  and 
Jcnowledge  of  the  second  Idnd. 

Besides  these  tAvo  kinds  of  knoAAiedge  there  is  a 
third,  as  Avill  be  presently  shoAAUi,  Avhich  1 shall  call 
intuitire.  This  kind  proceeds  from  tlie  adequate 
idea  of  the  formal  essence  of  some  of  the  attributes 


104 


SPIXOZA  S ETHICS. 


of  God  to  the  adequate  knowledge  of  the  essence  of 
things.  All  of  Avliich  I shall  illustrate  by  a single 
example: — given  three  numbers,  to  hud  a fourth 
which  shall  be  to  the  third  as  the  second  is  to  the 
lirst.  Merchants  do  not  liesitate  to  multiply  the 
second  number  by  the  third  and  divide  the  product 
by  the  first, — and  this  they  do  because  they  have  not 
forgotten  what  they  learned  from  their  teachers  with- 
out any  demonstration,  or  because  they  have  often 
made  use  of  this  rule  and  found  it  to  hold  good  in 
calculations  with  simple  numbers,  or  in  virtue  of  the 
demonstration  of  the  19th  Prop,  of  the  7th  book  of 
Euclid,  viz.,  from  the  common  property  of  pro- 
portionals. But  in  calculations  made  with  the 
simplest  numbers  no  such  procedure  is  required  ; for 
if  the  numerals  1,  2,  3 be  given,  Avho  does  not  see 
that  the  fourth  proportional  number  must  be  6?  and 
this  much  more  clearly,  because  from  the  proportion 
which  we  see  the  second  bears  to  the  lirst  we  in- 
tuitively conclude  as  to  the  fourth. 

PKOP.  XLI. — Knowledge  of  the  first  kind  is 
the  sole  cause  of  falsity,  as  that  of  the 
second  and  third  kinds  is  necessarily  true. 

Demoxstr. — In  the  preceding  Scholium  we  have 
said  that  all  those  ideas  that  are  inadequate  or  con- 
fused pertain  to  knoAviedge  of  the  first  kind ; con- 
sequently (by  Prop.  35)  knoAvledge  of  this  kind  is 
the  sole  cause  of  falsity.  We  have  further  said,  that 
adequate  ideas  pertain  to  kiiOAAdedge  of  the  second 
and  third  kinds,  and  consequently  (by  Proj).  34)  knoAv- 
ledge  of  these  kinds  is  necessarily  true.  q.  e.  n. 

PKOP.  XLII. — It  is  knoAvlcdge  of  the  second 
and  third  kinds,  and  not  of  the  first,  that 


105 


\ 

PART  II. — OF  Tin:  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 

teaches  ns  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the 
false. 

Demoxstp.. — This  Proposition  is  self-evident.  For 
whoever  knows  how  to  distinguish  between  the  true 
and  the  false,  must  liave  an  adequate  idea  of  that 
which  is  true  and  of  that  which  is  false  ; i.e.  (by 
Schol.  2 to  Prop.  40),  he  must  know  tlie  true  and  the 
false  by  the  second  and  third  kinds  of  knowledge. 

PROP.  XLIII. — He  who  has  a true  idea  knows  « 
at  the  same  time  that  lie  has  a true  idea, 
and  cannot  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the 
thing. 

Demoxstr. — The  true  idea  in  ns  is  that  which  is  in 
God,  in  so  far  as  God  is  expressed  by  the  nature  of 
the  human  soul,  and  it  is  adequate  (by  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  11).  Let  ns  suppose  then  that  in  God,  in  so 
far  as  God  is  expressed  by  the  nature  of  the  liuinan 
soul,  there  is  the  adequate  idea  A.  TJie  idea  of  this 
idea  must  also  necessarily  be  in  God,  as  it  is  referred 
to  God  in  the  same  wa}^  as  the  idea  A (by  Prop.  20, 
the  demonstration  of  which  is  universal).  But  the 
idea  A is  supposed  to  be  referred  to  God  in  so  far  as 
God  is  expressed  by  the  nature  of  the  human  soul ; 
therefore  the  idea  of  the  idea  A is  also  and  in  the 
same  way  referred  to  God ; that  is  (by  the  same 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  11),  this  adequate  idea  of  the  idea  A 
will  be  present  in  the  soul  that  possesses  the  adequate 
idea  A ; so  that  he  who  has  an  adequate  idea  of  or 
(by  Prop.  34)  truly  knows  a thing,  m nst  at  the  same 
time  have  an  adequate  idea  that  he  knows  it,  and 
that  he  knows  it  truly  ; that  is  (and  this  is  self-mani- 
fest), he  must  at  the  same  time  be  certain  of  it.  Q.  e.  d. 


106 


spixoza's  ethics. 


SciioL. — In  the  Scliolium  to  Prop.  21,  I have  ex- 
plained what  an  idea  of  an  idea  is.  The  preceding- 
proposition,  however,  is  sufficiently  manifest  of  itself, 
inasmuch  as  no  one  who  lias  a true  idea  is  ignorant 
that  a true  idea  involves  the  highest  certainty.  For 
to  have  a true  idea  signifies  nothing  less  than  to 
know  a thing  perfectly  well ; nor,  indeed,  can  any 
one  doubt  of  this  unless  he  thinks  that  an  idea  is 
something  mute,  like  a painting  on  a panel,  and  not 
a mode  of  thought — not  the  understanding  itself. 
And  I ask,  who  can  know  that  he  understands  a thing 
unless  he  first  understands  it? — in  other  words,  who 
can  know  that  he  is  certain  of  a thing  unless  he  is 
first  certain  of  it  ? Further,  what  sign  of  truth  can 
there  be  more  clear  and  certain  than  a true  idea  ? 
Surel}^  as  the  light  makes  manifest  both  itself  and 
the  darkness,  so  does  truth  reveal  both  itself  and  that 
which  is  false. 

In  what  precedes  I think  I have  also  replied  to 
such  questions  as  these,  namely  : if  a true  idea  is  dis- 
tinguished from  a false  one  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  said, 
to  agree  with  its  object,  it  cannot  therefore  have  more 
of  reality  or  perfection  than  a false  idea  has  (seeing 
that  the  one  is  distinguished  from  the  other  solely 
by  an  extrinsic  denomination), — and  consequently  a 
man  who  has  true  ideas  cannot  be  distinguished  from 
one  who  has  false  ideas.  Hoav  is  it,  then,  that  men 
have  false  ideas  ? And  further,  how  can  any  one 
know  for  certain  that  he  has  ideas  which  agree  with 
their  ideates  ? To  these  questions,  I say,  I think  I 
have  already  replied.  For  as  to  what  relates  to  the 
difference  between  a true  and  a false  idea,  it  appears 
from  Prop.  3o  that  the  one  is  to  the  other  as  being  or 
entity  is  to  non-entity  ; — and  from  Proposition  19  to 
35  with  its  Scholium,  I have  clearly  shown  the  causes 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


107 


of  falsity.  Fiom  all  of  wliicli  it  is  apparent  liow 
a man  who  has  true  ideas  is  distingnislied  from  one 
who  lias  false  ideas.  With  reference  to  the  last  point, 
namely  : as  to  how  a man  can  know  that  he  has  an 
idea  which  agrees  with  its  ideate  or  object,  I have 
more  than  sufficiently  shown  that ‘it  apyiears  l)y  this 
alone — that  he  has  such  an  idea  as  agrees  with  its 
object ; in  other  words,  that  truth  is  its  own  sign. 
Add  to  this,  that  our  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  perceives 
things  truly,  is  a part  of  the  infinite  understanding  of 
Cxod  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11),  and  therefore  it  is 
as  necessary  that  the  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  the 
soul  should  be  true  as  that  the  ideas  of  God  are  true. 

PROP.  XLIV. — It  is  in  the  nature  of  Reason  to 
contemplate  things  not  as  contingent,  but 
as  necessary. 

Demoxstil— It  is  in  the  nature  of  reason  to  per- 
ceive things  truly  (by  Prop.  41),  that  is,  as  they  are 
in  themselves  (by  Ax.  6,  Part  I. ) ; in  other  words  (by 
Prop.  29,  Part  I.),  not  as  contingent,  but  as  neces- 
sary. Q.  E.  D. 

CoKOLL.  1. — Hence  it  follows,  that  it  depends  sole- 
ly on  the  imagination  when  Ave  contemplate  things  as 
contingent,  AAdiether  this  be  in  respect  of  the  past  or 
the  future. 

SciiOL. — The  reason  of  this  I shall  briefly  explain. 
AVe  have  seen  above  {tide  Prop.  17  Avith  its  Coroll.) 
that  the  mind  apA^ays  imagines  things  as  present  to  it 
even  AAdien  they  are  non-existenf,  unless  causes  occur 
to  seclude  or  exclude  their  present  existence.  AVe 
next  saAv  (Pj  op.  18)  that  if  the  human  ])ody  has  once 
been  aff|cted  sinmltaneonsly  by  tAvo  external  bodies, 
Avhenever  the  soul  subsequently  imagined  one  of 


.08 


s.'ixoza’s  ethics. 


them  it  immediately  recalled  the  other  also  ; that  is, 
it  contemplated  both  of  them  as  being  present  unless 
causes  occurred  which  excluded  their  present  exis- 
tence. Moreover,  no  one  doubts  that  we  imagine 
thnelYom  this,  namely:  that  bodies  are  imagined  to 
move  some  faster  and  some  slower  than  others,  and 
some  with  equal  celerity.  Let  ns  suppose,  therefore, 
that  a yonth  saw  yesterday  for  the  lirst  time,  in  the 
morning  Peter,  at  noon  Paul,  and  in  the  evening 
Simeon  ; and  this  morning  again  saw  Peter  for  the 
second  time.  It  is  obvious,  from  Prop.  18,  that  sl- 
mnltaneonsly  with  the  morning  light  he  rvill  also  see 
the  snn  xmrsning  the  same  course  in  the  heavens  as 
he  saw  it  on  the  preceding  day;  afterwards  he  will 
imagine  the  day  as  a whole,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  the  morning  he  will  be  apt  to  imagine  Peter,  rvith 
the  noon  Paul,  and  with  the  evening  Simeon  ; that 
is,  he  will  imagine  the  existence  of  Panl  and  Simeon 
with  relation  to  a time  to  come  ; and  on  the  other 
hand,  seeing  Simeon  in  the  evening,  he  will  connect 
the  existence  of  Panl  and  Peter  with  a time  past,  and 
will  imagine  both  of  them  simnltaneonsly  in  con- 
nection with  it ; and  this  the  more  assuredly  the 
oftener  these  three  persons  are  seen  by  him  in  the 
same  order.  But  if  it  sometimes  happens  that  in- 
stead of  seeing  Simeon  in  the  evening  he  sees  James, 
then  will  he  subsequently  connect  with  the  evening, 
now  Simeon,  and  now  James,  but  not  the  two  as  pres- 
ent at  one  and  the  same  time  ; for  we  have  supposed 
one  or  the  other  only,  and  not  both  of  them  at  once 
to  have  been  seen  in  the  evening.  The  imagination 
of  the  yonth  will  therefore  tlnctnate,  and  in  the  fu- 
ture he  will  imagine  now  Simeon,  norv  James,  joined 
with  evening  hours,  but  neitlier  of  them  rvitli  cer- 
tainty ; so  that  thenceforAvard  each  of  them  rvill  be 


PAKT  II.  — OF  THE  WHIN'D  OR  SCFL. 


1C9 


contemiilated  contingently.  And  there  is  the  same 
linctnation  of  the  imagination  Avhether  the  things 
imagined  in  this  way  are  contemplated  with  relation 
to  time  past  or  present,  and  consequently  things 
imagined  with  relation  to  tiine  past,  itresent,  or  future, 
will  be  regarded  as  contingent. 

CoKOLL.  2. — It  is  in  the  nature  of  Reason  to  per- 
ceive tilings  under  a certain  form  or  species  of  eter- 
nity. 

Demoxstr. — For  it  is  in  the  nature  of  reason  to 
('ontemplate  things  as  necessary,  and  not  as  contin- 
gent (by  preceding  Prop.)  Now  reason  perceives 
this  necessit}^  of  things  as  true  (by  Prop.  41), — that  is 
to  say  (by  Ax.  6,  Part  I.),  it  perceives  things  as  they 
are  in  themselves.  But  (by  Prop.  16,  Part  I.)  this 
necessity  of  things  is  itself  the  very  necessity  of 
the  eternal  nature  of  God.  Therefore  it  is  in  the 
nature  of  reason  to  contemplate  things  under  a species 
or  form  of  eternity.  Add  to  this,  that  the  funda- 
mentals of  reason  are  (by  Prop.  38)  those  notions 
which  explain  Avliat  is  common  to  all  things,  but 
which  (by  Prop.  37)  do  not  explain  the  essence  of 
any  individual  thing  ; notions,  therefore,  which  must 
be  conceived  without  any  relation  to  time  and  under 
a certain  form  of  eternity.  Q.  e.  d. 

l^ROP.  XLV. — Every  idea  of  every  actually 
existing  individual  body  or  thing  neces- 
sarily involves  the  eternal  and  infinite 
essence  of  God. 

T)e3ioxstr. — The  idea  of  an  actually  existing  indi- 
vidual thing  necessarily  involves  both  the  essence  and 
existence  of  that  thing  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  8).  But 
individual  things  cannot  (by  Prop.  15,  Part  I.)  be  con- 


110 


v^PIXOZA's  ethics. 


ceived  without  God  ; and  as  (by  Prop.  0)  .they  have 
God  for  their  cause  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered 
under  an  attribute  whei'eof  the  things  themselves  are 
modes,  the  ideas  of  these  things  must  (by  Ax.  4,  Part 
I.),  necessarily  involve  the  conception  of  that  attri- 
l)ute  •,  that  is  (by  Def.  6,  Part  I.),  they  must  involve 
the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  of  God.  q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — By  existence  I do  not  here  understand 
duration,  that  is,  existence  abstractly  conceived  and 
as  a certain  kind  or  species  of  quantity.  But  I speak 
of  the  very  nature  of  the  existence  which  is  assigned 
to  individual  things, — of  existence  by  reason  of  which 
infinities  follow  in  infinite  modes  from  the  eternal 
necessity  of  the  nature  of  God.  ( Vide  Prop.  16,  Part 
I.)  I speak,  I say,  of  the  veiy  existence  of  individual 
things  in  so  far  as  they  are  in  God.  For  although 
each  of  them  is  determined  by  some  other  individual 
thing  to  exist  in  a certain  manner,  yet  the  force  by 
which  each  perseveres  in  its  existence  follows  from 
the  eternal  necessity  of  the  nature  of  God.  On  this 
])oint  see  Coroll,  to  Prop.  24,  Part  I. 

I^ROP.  XLYI. — The  knowledge  or  cognition 
of  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  of  God 
wliicli  every  idea  involves,  is  adequate  and 
perfect. 

Demoxstu. — The  demonstration  of  the  preceding 
proposition  is  universal  ; and  whether  a thing  be 
considered  as  a part  or  as  a whole,  the  idea  of  that 
thing,  whether  as  a part  or  as  a whole,  involves  the 
eternal  and  infinite  essence  of  God  (by  preceding 
Prop.)  Wherefore  that  which  gives  a cognition  or 
knowledge  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  of  God 
is  common  to  all  things,  and  is  equally  in  a part  as 


PART  ir. — OF  THE  MIXD  OR  SOUL. 


Ill 


in  tlie  whole  ; and  so  (by  Prop.  38)  such  knowledge 
is  adequate.  Q.  e.  d. 

PKOP.  XLYII. — The  limnaii  soul  has  an  ade- 
quate kiiOAvledge  or  cognition  of  the  eternal 
and  intinite  essence  of  God. 

Demoxstr. — The  human  soul  has  ideas  (Prop.  22) 
by  which  (Prop.  23)  it  perceives  itself,  its  own  ])ody 
(by  Prop.  19),  and  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  16,  and  by 
Pgop.  17)  actually  existing  external  ])odies  ; there- 
fore (by  Props.  4d  and  46)  it  has  an  adequate  know- 
ledge of  the  eternal  and  intinite  essence  of  God. 
Q.  E.  n. 

ScjiOL. — Hence  we  see  that  the  intinite  essence  and 
the  eternity  of  God  are  known  to  all  men.  But  as- 
all  things  are  in  God  and  are  conceived  through  God, 
it  follows  that  from  this  knowledge  we  derive  most  of 
all  that  we  know  adequately,  and  so  it  forms  the 
third  kind  of  knowledge  of  which  we  have  spoken  in 
Scholium  2 to  Prop.  40,  and  of  the  superiority  and 
usefulness  of  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
in  our  Fifth  Part.  The  reason,  however,  why  men 
have  not  equally  as  clear  a knowledge  of  God  as  of 
common  notions,  proceeds  from  this  : that  they  can- 
not imagine  God  as  they  do  bodies,  and  because  they 
have  associated  the  name  of  God  with  the  images  of 
things  they  are  accustomed  to  see, — a habit  men  can 
scarcely  avoid  because  they  are  continually  affected 
by  external  bodies.  Many  errors,  indeed,  consist 
solely  in  this  : that  names  are  not  rightly  applied  to 
things.  If  any  one  should  say  that  the  lines  drawn 
from  the  centre  of  a circle  to  its  circumference  were 
unequal,  he  certainly  would  understand  by  a circle 
something  quite  different  from  what  mathematicians 


112 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


do.  So  when  men  make  mistakes  in  arithmetical 
calculations,  they  have  other  numbers  in  their  minds 
than  those  on  the  paper  before  them.  Wherefore,  if 
we  regard  only  their  minds,  they  do  not  really  err  ; 
and  yet  the}^  seem  to  err,  because  they  think  they 
have  in  their  minds  the  same  numbers  as  they  have 
on  their  paper.  Were  this  not  so  we  should  not  be- 
lieve that  they  erred  ; — as  I did  not  believe  that  a cer- 
tain person  erred  whom  not  long  ago  I heard  exclaim- 
ing, ‘ My  yard  {atrium)  has  tiown  into  my  neighbor  s 
fowls,’  for  I thought  I perfectl}^  understood  what 
he  meant  to  say.  And  it  is  because  men  have  not 
rightly  expressed  their  meaning,  or  have  wrongly 
interpreted  the  meanings  of  others,  that  so  many  con- 
troversies have  arisen.  For  in  contradicting  one 
another  they  either  think  alike  or  they  think  dif- 
ferently, so  that  the  errors  and  absurdities  which 
they  impute  to  each  other  very  often  have  no  exist- 
ence in  fact. 


PEOP.  XLYIII. — In  the  soul  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  absolute  or  free  will,  but  tlie  soul 
is  determined  to  will  this  or  that  by  a cause 
which  is  itself  determined  by  another 
cause,  and  that  again  by  another,  and  so 
on  to  infinity. 

Bemoxstr. — The  soul  is  a certain  and  determinate 
mode  of  thought  (by  Prop.  11),  and  therefore  (by 
Coroll.  2 to  Proj:).  17,  Part  I.)  it  cannot  itself  be  the 
free  cause  of  its  own  actions  ; in  other  Avords,  it  can- 
not possess  any  absolute  faculty  of  Avilling  or  of  not 
Avilling,  but  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  I.)  must  be  determined 


PART  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


113 


to  will  this  or  that  by  a cause  which  is  itself  deter- 
mined by  another  cause,  and  that  again  by  another, 
etc.  Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — In  the  same  way  it  may  be  demonsti’ated 
that  in  the  soul  there  is  no  absolute  faculty  of  under- 
standing, of  desiring,  of  loving,  etc.  Whence  it  fol- 
lows that  these  and  similar  faculties  are  either  wholly 
llctitious  or  represent  nothing  but  metaphysical  enti- 
ties or  universals  which  we  are  accustomed  to  form 
from  joarticular  things ; so  that  understanding  and 
will  have  the  same  relation  to  this  or  that  idea,  this 
or  that  volition,  as  stoniness  has  to  this  or  that  stone, 
or  as  mankind  has  to  Peter  or  Paul.  But  we  have 
already  explained  the  reason  why  men  believe  they 
are  free,  in  the  Appendix  to  Part  I. 

Before  proceeding  further,  however,  it  should  be 
observed  here  that  by  will  I understand  the  power 
not  the  desire  of  affirming  or  denying  ; I say  I under- 
stand by  will  the  poieer  by  which  the  soul  affirms  or 
denies  what  is  true  or  false,  and  not  the  desire  by 
which  the  soul  has  an  appetite  or  an  aversion  for 
things.  But  since  we  have  demonstrated  that  these 
faculties  are  universal  notions  which  are  not  distin- 
guished from  the  particulars  from  which  they  are 
formed,  we  have  now  to  inquire  whether  volitions 
are  themselves  anything  more  than  ideas  of  things. 
We  have  to  inquire,  I say,  whether  there  is  in  the 
soul  any  affirmation  or  negation  except  that  which  an 
idea  as  idea  involves  ; — and  on  this  point  see  the  next 
Proposition  and  also  Definition  3,  lest  thought  should 
pass  for  a mere  picture  or  image  of  things  ; for  by 
ideas  I do  not  understand  images  such  as  are  formed 
on  the  retina  of  the  eye,  or,  if  you  please,  in  the 
middle  of  the  brain,  but  conceptions  of  thought. 

8 


114 


SPIIs^OZA’S  ethics. 


PEOP.  XLIX. — In  the  soul  there  is  no  voli- 
tion, that  is  to  say,  no  affiimation  or  ne- 
gation, other  than  that  which  idea,  as  idea, 
involves.  ’ $ 

Demot^ste. — In  the  soul  (by  preceding  Prop.)  there 
is  no  absolute  faculty  of  willing  and  not  willing,  but 
only  particular  volitions,  namely,  this  or  that  affirm- 
ation, this  or  that  negation.  Let  ns  now  conceive 
some  particular  volition,  i.e.  some  mode  of  thought 
— such,  for  instance,  as  that  in  which  the  soul  affirms 
that  the  three  angles  of  a triangle  are  equal  to  two 
right-angles.  This  affirmation  involves  the  concept 
or  idea  of  a triangle  ; that  is,  it  cannot  be  conceived 
without  the  idea  of  a triangle.  For  if  I say  that  A 
involves  the  conception  of  B,  it  is  the  same  thing  as  if 
I said  that  A cannot  be  conceived  without  B.  And, 
further  (by  Ax.  3),  such  an  affirmation  cannot  be 
made  without  the  idea  of  a triangle.  Therefore, 
without  the  idea  of  a triangle  this  affirmation  can 
neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be.  Moreover,  this 
idea  of  a triangle  must  also  involve  this  affirmation, 
namely : that  the  sum  of  its  three  angles  are  equal  to 
two  right-angles.  Wherefore  the  idea  of  a triangle, 
can  neither  be  nor  be  conceived  to  be  without  this 
affirmation,  and  vice  versa ; and  so  (by  Def . 2)  this 
affirmation  belongs  to  and  is  nothing  more  than  the 
assertion  of  the  essence  of  the  triangle.  What  we  have 
now  said  of  this  particular  volition — (seeing  that  we 
assumed  it,  as  we  might  have  assumed  any  other)  is 
to  be  said  of  every  volition  whatsoever,  namely — that 
it  is  nothing  but  an  idea.  q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — Will  and  understanding  are  one  and  the 
same  thing. 


PAET  II. — OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


115 


Demoxstr. — Will  and  understanding  are  them- 
selves nothing  but  particular  volitions  and  ideas  (by 
Prop.  48  and  its  Schol.).  But  a particular  volition 
and  idea  (by  preceding  Prop.)  are  one  and  the  same 
thing ; therefore  will  and  understanding  are  one  and 
the  same  thing.  Q.  e.  h. 

Schol. — In  what  has  been  said  above  we  have  ex 
j)osed  and  removed  that  which  is  a common  cause  of 
error.  We  have  also  shown  that  falsity  consists  solely 
in  the  privation  of  knowledge  involved  in  mutilated 
and  confused  ideas.  Wherefore  a false  idea,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  false,  does  not  involve  certainty.  So  that 
when  we  say  a man  acquiesces  in  error  or  falsehood, 
or  belie\"es  it  without  a doubt,  we  do  not  say  so  be- 
cause he  is  certain  of  it,  but  only  because  he  does  not 
doubt,  or  because  he  acquiesces  in  the  falsehood, — 
there  being  no  cause  which  makes  his  imagination 
fluctuate  or  waver.  On  this  point  see  the  Schol.  to 
Prop.  44.  However  much  therefore  a man  may  be 
supposed  to  adhere  to  error  or  untruth,  we  never  say 
that  he  is  certain  of  it ; for  by  certainty  we  under- 
stand something  positive  {vide  Prop.  43,  and  its 
Schol.),  and  not  a mere  privation  or  absence  of  doubt, 
for  by  the  want  of  certainty  possible  falsity  is  im- 
plied. For  the  more  complete  explanation  of  the  pre- 
ceding proposition,  however,  there  still  remains  some- 
thing to  be  said.  When  I have  done  this  I shall  then 
reply  to  the  objections  that  may  be  made  to  my  doc- 
trine ; and.  Anally,  that  1 may  remove  every  scruple 
to  its  acceptance,  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  point  out 
some  of  the  useful  applications  of  it, — I say  some^ — 
for  most  of  these  will  be  better  understood  by  what 
will  be  said  in  my  Fifth  Part. 

In  the  first  place  then,  I begin  by  admxonishing  my 
readers  that  they  should  accurately  distinguish  be 


116 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


tween  an  idea  or  conception  of  tlie  sonl  and  the 
images  of  the  things  they  imagine.  And  further,  that 
it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between  ideas  and  the 
words  by  which  things  are  signilied.  For  these  three, 
viz.,  images,  words,  and  ideas,  are  entirely  confounded 
by  many,  or  are  not  distingnished  Avith  sufficient  care 
and  accuracy  ; and  it  is  because  of  this  that  the  doc- 
trine of  the  ^o^7Z,  which  is  so  necessary  to  b^  under- 
stood,— both  as  regards  speculation  and  a wise  conduct 
of  life, — is  almost  AAffiolly  unknown.  For  they  aaIio 
think  that  ideas  consist  in  images  formed  in  ns  by  the 
concurrence  of  bodies,  persuade  themselves  that  those 
ideas  of  things  of  which  we  can  form  no  similar  images 
are  not  ideas,  but  only  fictions  Avhich  AA^e  form  to  our- 
selves by  the  decision  of  a free  AA’ill ; these  persons, 
therefore,  regard  such  ideas  as  mute  pictures  upon  a 
lianel  or  cauAms,  and  being  preoccupied  by  this  preju- 
dice they  do  not  see  that  an  idea,  as  idea,  invoAes 
either  affirmation  or  negation.  Further,  they  Avho 
confound  a AA^ord  AAuth  an  idea,  or  AAfith  the  affirmation 
AAdiich  an  idea  involves,  think  they  can  oppose  their 
AA^ill  against  that  which  they  perceive,  AAdien  in  AA^ords 
merely  they  affirm  or  deny  that  Avhich  they  perceiA’e. 
He,  hoAAxver,  easily  divests  himself  of  these  preju- 
dices AAdio  gives  attention  to  the  nature  of  thought, 
AAdiich  in  no  AAdse  involves  the  conception  of  exten- 
sion ; for  he  Avill  then  clearly  comxirehend  that  an 
idea  (in  so  far  as  it  is  a mode  of  thought)  consists 
neither  in  the  image  of  a thing,  nor  in  the  Avords  used 
to  signify  it  ; for  the  essence  of  Avords  and  images  is 
constituted  solely  by  corporeal  motions,  which  in  no 
way  involve  the  conceptions  of  thought. 

These  feAv  observations,  by  Avay  of  admonition,  are 
sufficient ; and  I pass  noAv  to  the  objections  I have 
foreseen.  T\iq  first  of  these  rests  upon  the  presnmp- 


PAET  II. — OF  THE  MIHD  OR  SOUL. 


117 


tion  that  will  is  of  wider  scope  than  understanding, 
and  is  therefore  different  from  it.  But  the  reason 
why  will  is  supposed  to  be  of  wider  scoiDe  than  un- 
derstanding is  this:  that  experience  shows  that  no 
greater  faculty  is  required  to  assent  to  or  affirm  or 
deny  an  infinity  of  things  that  are  not  objects  of  per- 
ception than  that  which  men  now  possess  ; but  that 
they  require  a greater  faculty  of  understanding.  The 
will  here,  therefore,  is  distinguished  from  the  under- 
standing in  this : that  it  is  regarded  as  infinite,  whilst 
the  understanding  is  regarded  as  finite  only.  In  the 
second  place,  it  may  be  objected  to  onr  doctrine : that 
experience  seems  to  teach  nothing  more  clearly  than 
that  we  can  suspend  onr  judgment  and  not  assent  to 
everything  we  perceive, — a conclusion  which  is  further 
confirmed  by  the  fact  that  no  one  is  said  to  be  de- 
ceived in  so  far  as  he  perceives  anything,  but  only  in 
so  far  as  he  assents  to  or  dissents  from  it.  For  exam- 
ple, he  who  imagines  a horse  with  wings  does  not 
thereby  concede  that  there  is  a horse  with  wings  ; ^.e., 
he  is  not  deceived  if  he  does  not  at  the  same  time 
concede  that  there  is  a horse  with  wings.  Experience, 
therefore,  seems  to  teach  nothing  more  clearly  than 
that  will  or  the  faculty  of  assenting  is  free,  and  dis- 
tinct from  the  faculty  of  understanding. 

A third  objection  that  may  be  made  is  : that  one  af- 
firmation does  not  appear  to  contain  more  of  reality 
than  another ; that  is  to  say,  it  does  not  seem  to  re- 
quire any  greater  power  to  affirm  as  true  that  which 
is  true,  than  it  does  to  affirm  as  true  that  which  is 
false.  We  do,  however,  perceive  that  the  one  idea 
has  more  of  reality  or  perfection  than  the  other,  for 
even  as  some  objects  are  more  perfect  than  others,  so 
and  in  the  same  measure  are  the  ideas  of  these  objects 
more  perfect  than  the  ideas  of  the  others  ; and  here- 


118 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


by  the  difference  between  will  and  understanding  aj)- 
pears  still  further  to  be  manifest. 

A fourth  objection  that  may  be  made  is  : that  if  a 
man  does  not  act  from  freedom  of  will,  what  would 
happen  to  him  if  he  were  in  a state  of  equilibrium 
like  the  ass  of  Buridanus  % Would  he  perish  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst  \ If  I concede  that  he  would,  then  do 
I seem  to  conceive  an  ass  indeed,  or  only  the  statue  of 
a man,  and  not  a human  being  ; but  if  I deny  it,  then 
will  the  man  determine  his  own  actions,  and  conse- 
quently possess  the  faculty  of  moving  and  doing  what 
he  wills. 

Besides  these  there  may  perchance  be  other  ob- 
jections urged ; but  as  I do  not  feel  obliged  to  meet 
all  that  every  one  may  possibly  dream  of  by  way  of 
objection,  I reply  only,  and  as  briefly  as  possible,  to 
those  which  I have  specifled  above.  To  firsts  then, 
I say  that  I concede  that  will  is  of  wider  scope  than 
understanding,  if  by  understanding  clear  and  distinct 
ideas  only  are  meant  or  understood  ; but  I deny  that 
will  is  of  more  extended  scope  than  perception  or  the 
faculty  of  conceiving.  Nor,  indeed,  do  I see  why  the 
faculty  of  will  can  be  said  to  be  inflnite  any  more  than 
the  faculty  of  feeling  or  perception : for  as  we  can 
affirm  infinities  (one  after  another,  however,  for  we 
cannot  affirm  infinities  simultaneously)  by  the  same 
faculty  of  willing,  so  can  we  affirm  an  infinity  of  bodies 
(one  after  another)  by  the  same  faculty  of  perceiving. 
But  if  it  be  said  that  there  are  infinities  which  we  can- 
not perceive,  I reply  that  we  can  then  apprehend 
these  by  no  faculty  of  thought,  and  consequently  by 
no  faculty  of  will.  But  it  may  be  said  ; if  God  had 
willed  that  we  should  also  perceive  these,  then  would 
God  have  had  to  give  us  a greater  faculty  of  percep- 
tion, indeed,  but  not  a greater  faculty  of  willing  than 


PAKT  II.— OF  THE  MmD  OR  SOUL. 


119 


that  we  are  already  endowed  with.  But  this  would 
be  the  same  as  saying  that  if  Grod  had  willed  that 
we  should  understand  an  infinity  of  other  beings,  it 
would  have  been  necessary  to  have  given  us  a greater 
understanding  but  not  a more  universal  idea  of  being 
than  has  already  been  bestowed  upon  us,  in  order  to 
enable  us  to  apprehend  these  infinite  existences  ; for 
we  have  shown  that  will  is  an  universal  entity  or  idea 
by  which  we  explain  all  individual  volitions  ; that  is 
to  say,  everything  that  is  common  to  all  of  them.  If, 
therefore,  all  these  common  volitions,  these  universal 
ideas,  are  believed  to  be  a faculty,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  will  should  be  said  to  extend  itself  beyond  the 
limits  of  understanding  to  infinity ; for  universality 
may  be  equally  asserted  of  one,  or  of  many,  or  of  an 
infinity  of  individuals. 

To  the  second  objection,  I reply  by  denying  that 
we  have  any  free  power  of  suspending  our  judgment. 
For  when  we  say  of  any  one  that  he  suspends  his 
judgment,  we  say  nothing  more  than  that  he  per- 
ceives that  he  does  not  adequately  understand  the 
matter  to  be  judged.  Suspension  of  judgment  there- 
fore is  perception^  and  not  free  will.  That  we  may 
have  a clear  understanding  of  this,  let  us  conceive  a 
boy  imagining  to  himself  a horse,  and  not  perceiving 
anything  else.  As  this  imagination  involves  the 
existence  of  a horse  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  17),  and  the 
boy  has  no  perception  which  annuls  it,  the  horse 
will  necessarily  be  contemplated  as  present,  and  he 
will  not  doubt  of  its  existence  although  he  is  not 
certain  of  it.  Something  like  this  do  we  experience 
almost  every  day  in  our  dreams  ; nor  do  I believe  there 
is  any  one  who  thinks  that  whilst  he  sleeps  he  has 
free  power  to  suspend  his  judgment  on  what  he 
dreams,  or  that  he  can  bring  it  to  pass  that  he  will 


120 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


not  dream  of  tlie  things  about  which  he  dreams ; 
nevertheless,  it  does  happen  that  in  our  dreams  we 
sometimes  suspend  our  judgment — for  instance,  when 
we  dream  that  we  are  dreaming.  Furthermore,  I 
concede  that  in  so  far  as  perception  is  concerned  no 
one  is  really  deceived  ; that  is  to  say,  I concede  that 
the  imaginations  of  the  soul,  considered  in  them- 
selves, involve  nothing  erroneous  {i^ide  Schol.  to 
Prop.  17)  ; but  I deny  that  a man  in  so  far  as  he 
perceives  affirms  nothing.  For  to  perceive  a winged 
horse,  what  is  it  but  to  affirm  a horse  witli  wings? 
If  therefore  the  mind  perceived  nothing  but  a winged 
horse,  it  would  contemplate  it  as  present,  would 
have  no  cause  to  doubt  of  its  existence,  and  no 
faculty  or  power  of  dissenting  from  it,  were  it  not 
that  to  the  imagination  of  the  winged  horse  there  is 
joined  an  idea  which  annuls  the  existence  of  such  a 
horse,  or  which  perceives  that  the  idea  which  it  has 
of  a winged  horse  is  inadequate,  in  which  case  it 
will  necessarily  either  deny  or  doubt  the  existence 
of  any  such  horse. 

IS’ow  in  what  precedes  I think  I have  also  replied 
to  the  third  objection.  For  what  is  will  but  an  uni- 
versal something  which  is  predicated  of  all  ideas,  and 
which  only  signifies  that  which  is  common  to  all 
ideas,  namely,  affirmation,  the  adequate  essence  of 
which,  in  so  far  as  it  is  abstractly  conceived,  must 
exist  in  every  individual  idea,  and  for  this  reason 
alone  be  the  same  in  all  ideas,  but  not  in  so  far  as  it 
is  considered  to  constitute  the  essence  of  all  ideas ; 
for  in  this  respect  particular  affirmations  are  as  differ- 
ent from  each  other  as  are  ideas  themselves.  For 
example,  the  affirmation  which  involves  the  idea  of 
the  circle  differs  as  much  from  that  which  involves 
the  idea  of  the  triangle  as  the  idea  of  the  circle 


PART  II.— OF  THE  MIND  OR  SOUL. 


121 


differs  from  the  idea  of  the  triangle.  Furthermore, 
I absolutely  deny  that  we  require  the  same  power  of 
thought  to  affirm  as  true  that  which  is  true  as  we  do 
to  affirm  as  true  that  whicli  is  false.  These  two 
affirmations,  if  we  regard  the  soul,  have  the  same 
relation  to  each  other  as  being  has  to  non-entity  ; for 
there  is  nothing  positive  in  ideas  which  constitutes 
the  form  of  falsity.  {Vide  Prop.  35  and  its  SclioL, 
and  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  47.)  Wherefore  it  is  to  be 
especially  noted  here  how  easy  it  is  to  be  deceived 
when  we  confound  universals  with  singulars,  and  the 
entities  or  beings  of  reason  and  abstractions  with 
realities. 

Finally,  as  to  what  relates  to  the  fourth  objection, 
I say  I fully  concede  that  a man  in  such  a state  of 
equilibrium  as  is  supposed  (namely,  percipient  of 
nothing  but  hunger  and  thirst,  and  of  such  meat 
and  such  drink  as  are  equally  distant  from  him  on 
either  hand)  would  perish  of  hunger  and  thirst.  If 
I am  asked  whether  such  a man  were  not  to  be 
esteemed  an  ass  rather  than  a man,  I answer  that  I 
do  not  know  ; nor  do  I know  how  he  is  to  be  esti- 
mated who  hangs  himself,  or  how  children,  idiots, 
insane  persons,  etc.,  are  to  be  estimated. 

It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  show  how  useful  and 
salutary  the  recognition  of  this  doctrine  must  prove 
in  the  affairs  of  life.  This  will  readily  appear  when 
we  consider : 1st.  That  it  teaches  ns  that  we  act  by 
the  commands  of  God  alone,  and  are  participators  in 
the  Divine  nature ; and  that  the  more  perfect  our 
actions  are,  the  more  and  more  do  we  understand 
God.  Our  doctrine,  therefore,  besides  conferring  entire 
peace  of  mind  has  this  further  advantage — that  it 
teaches  us  wherein  our  highest  happiness  or  beatitude 
consists,  namely — in  the  knowledge  of  God  alone. 


122 


SPIIs^OZA’S  ethics. 


whereby  we  are  led  to  perforai  those  acts  only  that 
X)ersuade  to  piety  and  love.  Whence  we  clearly  un- 
derstand how  far  they  are  from  the  truth  in  their 
estimate  of  virtue  who  for  virtue  and  good  actions 
expect  to  be  richly  rewarded  by  God  as  for  some 
great  service  done — as  if  virtue  and  the  service  of 
God  were  not  of  themselves  the  most  perfect  happi- 
ness and  freedom.  2nd.  Our  doctrine  further  teaches 
us  how  we  are  to  comport  ourselves  in  respect  of  the 
things  of  fortune,  or  of  those  things  which  are  not 
within  our  own  power, — that  is,  in  resj)ect  of  things 
which  do  not  follow  from  our  own  nature  ; namely — 
we  are  to  bear  both  prosperity  and  adversity  with 
like  equanimit}^  of  soul,  seeing  that  all  things  follow 
from  the  eternal  decrees  of  God  with  the  same  neces- 
sity as  it  follows  from  the  essence  of  the  triangle  that 
the  sum  of  its  three  angles  is  equal  to  two  right 
angles.  3rd.  Our  doctrine  is  also  useful  in  promoting 
the  amenities  of  social  life,  inasmuch  as  it  teaches  us 
to  hate  no  one,  to  despise  no  one,  to  ridicule  no  one, 
to  be  angry  with  no  one,  to  envy  no  one ; and  it  teaches 
us,  besides,  that  every  one  is  to  be  content  with  his 
own,  and  helpful  to  his  neighbor, — not  out  of  womanly 
l^ity,  partiality,  or  superstition,  but  under  the  guid- 
ance of  reason  alone  and  according  as  times  and 
circumstances  require,  as  I shall  show  in  my'^  Third 
Part.  4th.  Finally,  our  doctrine  is  of  no  little  im- 
portance in  connection  with  the  State,  inasmuch  as  it 
teaches  in  what  way  citizens  are  to  be  governed  and 
led,  namely — not  as  slaves,  but  as  free  men  acting  for 
that  which  is  best. 

Here  I conclude  what  I had  to  say  in  this  Scholium  ; 
and  here,  too,  I bring  to  a close  this  my  Second 
Part,  in  which  I think  I have  explained  the  nature 
of  the  human  soul  and  its  properties  at  sufficient 


PAPvT  II. — OF  THE  MIXD  OE  SOUL. 


123 


length  and  as  clearly  as  the  difficulties  of  the  subject 
X^ennitted.  I trust  I have  also  taught  principles 
from  which  much  that  is  excellent,  useful,  and  need- 
ful to  be  known  may  be  inferred,  as  will  be  con- 
firmed, in  xiart  at  least,  in  what  is  to  follow. 


END  OF  THE  SECOND  PART. 


ETHICS 


THIED  PART. 


OF  THE  ORIGIX  AXD  XATUKE  OF 
THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.* 

PREFACE. 

Most  of  the  writers  on  man’s  affections  and  the  con- 
duct of  life  appear  to  treat  not  of  natural  things  which 
follow  the  common  laws  of  nature,  but  of  things  not 
included  in  nature.  Tliey  seem,  indeed,  to  have  con- 
ceited man  as  an  imperium  in  imperio.  For  they 
believe  that  man  rather  disturbs  than  follows  the  order 
of  nature, — that  he  has  absolute  iDOwer  over  his  ac- 
tions, and  that  his  determinations  are  due  to  him- 
self alone.  If  it  is  a question  of  the  impotency  and 
inconstancy  of  man  they  do  not  refer  the  cause  of  it 
to  a common  power  of  nature,  but  to  some  unknown 
vice  or  defect  in  human  nature,  which  on  that  account 
they  lament,  deride,  contemn,  and  very  often  exe- 

* All  passions  are  affections,  but  all  affections  are  not  classed  as 
passions.  Having  this  distinction  in  view,  the  words  affection  and 
passion  are  otherwise  mostly  used  as  synonymous  throughout  this 
translation. — Tr. 


PAPwT  ril.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OE  PASSIONS.  125 


crate  ; and  lie  who  is  most  skilful  or  eloquent  in 
reviling  the  impotencj  of  the  human  soul  is  looked 
upon  as  a divinely  inspired  person.  There  has  not 
been  wanting,  however,  some  most  estimable  men  (for 
whose  works  and  labors  we  are  under  many  obliga- 
tions) who  have  written  much  that  is  most  excellent 
on  the  true  conduct  of  life,  and  have  given  to  man- 
kind counsels  full  of  wisdom  ; but  no  writer,  so  far 
as  I know,  has  yet  determined  the  true  nature  and 
force  of  the  affections  or  passions,  and  the  power 
which  the  soul  may  possess  to  moderate  and  control 
them.  I am  aware  that  the  celebrated  Descartes, 
although  he  believed  that  the  soul  could  have  abso- 
lute power  over  its  actions,  yet  endeavored  to  exiilain 
the  human  passions  by  their  first  causes,  and  to  point 
out  the  way  by  which  the  human  soul  might  attain 
an  absolute  dominion  over  them  ; but,  in  my  opinion, 
he  has  only  succeeded  in  exhibiting  his  own  great 
ingenuity  and  acumen,  as  I shall  show  in  the  proper 
place.  Here  I restrict  myself  to  speak  only  of  those 
who  are  more  disposed  to  execrate  and  revile  the  ac- 
tions and  passions  of  men  than  to  understand  them. 
To  such  persons  it  will  no  doubt  appear  strange  that 
I should  undertake  to  treat  of  the  vices  and  follies  of 
mankind  after  the  manner  of  geometricians,  and  seek 
to  demonstrate  according  to  certain  principles  things 
which  they  loudly  declare  to  be  repugnant  to  reason, 
vain,  absurd,  and  horrible.  Yet  such  is  my  purpose  ; 
for  in  my  view  nothing  happens  that  can  be  attributed 
to  a vice  or  defect  in  nature,  for  nature  is  always  the 
same, — everywhere  it  is  one,  everywhere  it  has  the 
same  virtue  and  power  of  action  ; in  other  words,  the 
laws  and  ordinances  of  nature,  in  accordance  with 
which  all  things  come  to  pass,  and  change  from  one 
form  into  another,  are  always  and  everywhere  the 


126 


spit^oza’s  ethics. 


same,  and  consequently  all  tilings,  whatsoever  they 
may  be,  must  be  explained  and  understood  by  one 
and  the  same  method, — namely,  by  the  universal  laws 
and  ordinances  of  nature.  Such  affections,  therefore, 
as  hate,  anger,  envy,  etc.,  considered  in  themselves, 
result  by  the  same  necessity  and  power  of  nature  as 
other  particular  things,  and  consequently  they  have 
certain  determined  causes  by  which  they  are  under- 
stood, and  certain  jiroperties  quite  as  worthy  to  be 
considered  as  the  properties  of  any  other  things,  the 
mere  contemplation  of  which  delights  us.  I shall 
therefore  treat  of  the  nature  and  force  of  the  affec- 
tions, and  of  the  power  of  the  soul  over  them,  in  the 
same  Avayas  I have  treated  of  God  and  of  the  Soul, 
in  the  preceding  Parts,  and  shall  investigate  human 
actions  and  appetites  just  as  if  it  Avere  a question  of 
lines,  planes,  and  solids. 

DEFINITIOJS^S. 

I.  I call  that  an  adequate  cause  the  effect  of  AAdiich 
can  be  clearly  and  distinctly  perceh^ed  through  that 
cause  ; and  I call  that  an  inadequate  or  qmrtial  cause 
the  effect  of  which  cannot  be  understood  through  tliat 
cause  alone. 

II.  When  something  happens  Avithin  or  out  of  our- 
seh^es  of  AAdiich  we  are  the  adequate  cause  ; that  is  (by 
preceding  Def.),  AAdien  something  AAdthin  or  out  of  our- 
selves results  from  our  nature,  and  through  it  alone 
can  be  clearly  and  distinctly  understood,  I say  then 
that  Ave  act.  When,  on  the  contrary,  something  hap- 
pens AAdthin  us  or  results  from  our  nature,  of  AAdiich 
Ave  ourselves  are  not  the  cause,  or  only  partially  the 
cause,  I say  then  that  AA^e  suffer  (or  are  acted  upon). 

III.  By  affections  or  loassions  I understand  those 


PAET  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  127 


affections  of  tlie  body  wliicli  augment  or  diminisli, 
favor  or  hinder  its  power  of  action  ; and  I also  under- 
stand at  the  same  time  the  ideas  of  those  affections. 

Explanation.  If,  therefore,  we  ourselves  can  be 
the  adequate  cause  of  any  of  these  affections,  then  by 
affection  I understand  an  action  ; otherwise  a 

POSTULATES. 

I.  The  human  body  can  be  affected  in  many  modes 
by  which  its  power  of  acting  is  augmented  or  dimi- 
nished, and  also  in  other  modes  by  which  its  power  of 
acting  is  made  neither  greater  nor  less. 

This  Postulate  or  Axiom  is  based  on  Postulate  1 
and  Lemmas  5 and  7 which  will  be  found  after  Prop, 
13,  Part  II. 

II.  The  human  body  can  undergo  many  changes, 
and  nevertheless  retain  the  impressions  or  traces  of 
things  {mde  Post.  5,  Part  II.),  and  consequently 
images  of  them  (for  Def.  mde  Schol.  to  Prop.  17, 
Part  II.). 


PEOPOSITIOXS. 

PPOP.  I. — Out  mind  or  soul  in  certain  cases 
acts,  and  in  certain  cases  suffers  (or  is  acted 
on) ; namely : in  so  far  as  it  has  adequate 
ideas  in  so  far  does  it  necessarily  act ; and 
in  so  far  as  it  has  inadequate  ideas  in  so 
far  does  it  necessarily  suffer. 

Demonstr. — In  every  human  soul  some  ideas  are 
adequate,  and  others  are  imperfect  and  confused  (by 
Schol.  to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.).  But  ideas  that  are  ade- 
quate in  the  soul  of  any  one  are  adequate  in  God, 


128 


SPIJs^OZA’S  ethics. 


inasmuch  as  God  constitutes  the  essence  of  the 
soul  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  11,  Part  II.);  and  those, 
again,  which  are  inadequate  in  the  soul  are  still 
adequate  in  God  (by  same  Coroll.),  not  indeed 
in  so  far  as  the  essence  of  that  particular  soul 
alone  is  concerned,  but  as  God  also  includes  at  the 
same  time  the  souls  of  other  things.  Further,  from 
every  given  idea  some  effect  must  necessarily  follow 
(by  Prop.  36,  Part  I.),  of  which  effect  God  is  the 
adequate  cause  {vide  Def.  1),  not  as  God  is  infinite, 
but  considered  as  affected  by  the  given  idea  {vide 
Prop.  9,  Part  II.).  But  the  same  effect  of  which  God 
as  affected  by  an  idea  that  is  adequate  in  any  particu- 
lar soul  is  the  cause,  that  soul  is  also  the  adequate 
cause  of  (Coroll,  to  Prop.  11,  Part  II.).  Therefore  our 
soul,  in  so  far  as  it  has  adequate  ideas,  must  (by  Def. 
2)  necessarily  act  in  certain  ways.  This  is  the  first 
point.  Again,  whatever  effect  necessarily  follows 
from  an  idea  that  is  adequate  in  God,  not  as  God 
includes  the  soul  of  some  one  j)articular  man  only, 
but  also  along  with  that  particular  soul  the  souls  of 
other  things, — of  every  such  effect  I say  that  the  soul 
of  that  particular  man  is  not  an  adequate,  but  only  a 
partial  cause  (by  same  Coroll,  to  Prop  11,  Part  II.) ; 
and  consequently  (by  Def.  2)  the  soul  in  so  far  as  it 
has  inadequate  ideas  necessarily  suffers  in  certain 
ways.  This  is  the  second  point.  Therefore  our  soul 
in  certain  cases  acts,  and  in  certain  cases  suffers. 

Q.  E.  D. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  greater  the 
number  of  inadequate  ideas  which  the  soul  possesses, 
the  greater  is  the  number  of  passions  to  which  it  is 
obnoxious  ; and  on  the  contrary,  the  greater  the  num- 
ber of  adequate  ideas  it  possesses,  the  greater  is  its 
power  of  action.’ 


PAllT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  129 


PEOP.  II. — The  body  cannot  determine  the 
sonl  to  tlionght,  nor  can  the  sonl  determine 
the  body  to  motion  or  rest,  or  to  anything* 
else  (if  there  be  anything  else). 

Demoxstr. — All  modes  of  thought  have  Ctod  for 
their  cause  in  so  far  as  God  is  considered  as  the  Thing 
Thinking,  and  not  as  God  is  revealed  or  explained  by 
some  other  attribute  (by  Prop.  6,  Part  IL)  ; that, 
therefore,  which  determines  the  sonl  to  think  is  a 
mode  of  thought,  and  not  a mode  of  extension  ; in 
other  words  (by  Def.  1,  Part  II.),  it  is  not  the  body.  ^ 

This  is  the  first  point.  Agaia,  the  motion  or  rest  of 
the  body  must  proceed  from  another  body,  which  was 
itself  determined  to  motion  or  rest  by  another  body  ; 
and  absolntel}"  whatever  is  produced  in  the  body 
must  proceed  from  God  in  so  far  considered  as  af- 
fected by  some  mode  of  extension,  and  not  by  some 
mode  of  thought  (by  same  Prop.  6,  Part  II.) ; in 
other  words  (by  Proii.  11,  Part  II.),  motion  and  rest 
cannot  proceed  from  the  mind  or  soul,  wliich  is  a 
mode  of  thought.  This  is  the  second  point.  There- 
fore the  body  cannot  determine,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — This  will  be  more  clearly  understood  by 
what  has  been  said  in  the  Scholium  to  Prop.  7,  Part 
II.,  viz.  : that  the  soul  and  body  are  one  and  the  same- 
thing,  conceived  now  under  the  attribute  of  thought,, 
and  now  under  that  of  extension.  Whence  it  comes 
tliat  the  order  or  concatenation  of  things  is  one  and 
the  same  under  whatever  attribute  nature  is  con- 
ceived ; and  consequently  that  the  order  of  the  actions 
and  passions  of  the  body,  and  the  order  of  the  actions- 
and  passions  of  the  soul,  are  simultaneous  in  nature. 

This  is  also  made  plain  in  the  demonstration  of  Prop.. 

12,  Part  IL 

9 


130 


spixoza’s  ethic?. 


But  however  strong  these  proofs  may  be,  and  al- 
though there  should  remain  no  reason  to  doubt  them, 
yet  I can  scarcely  believe  that  men  will  be  induced  to 
ponder  them  carefully  unless  I conlirm  them  by  ex- 
perience, so  firmly  are  they  persuaded  that  it  is  by 
the  will  of  the  soul  alone  that  the  body  is  put  now  in 
motion  and  now  at  rest,  and,  in  short,  that  it  does  a 
great  many  things  whicli  depend  strictly  upon  the 
volitions  of  the  soul  and  its  power  of  thinking.  Xo 
one,  however,  has  as  yet  shown  by  exj)eriment  what 
the  body  can  do  solely  by  the  laws  of  corx)oreal  na- 
ture, in  so  far  as  the  body  only  is  considered ; and 
what  it  cannot  do  without  being  determined  thereto 
by  the  soul.  For  no  one  has  ^^et  acquired  such  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  structure  of  the  human 
bod}’  as  to  be  able  to  explain  all  its  functions ; — and 
iiere  I say  nothing  of  the  many  things  observed  in 
the  lower  animals  and  which  far  exceed  human  sa- 
gacity, nor  of  the  things  somnambulists  do  in,  their 
sleep  which  they  would  not  dare  to  attempt  when 
.awake,  and  which  sIioav  plainly  enough  that  the  body 
by  the  laws  of  its  nature  alone  can  do  many  things 
which  are  a matter  of  astonishment  to  the  soul. 
Moreover,  no  one  yet  knows  in  what  way  and  by 
what  means  the  soul  moves  the  body,  nor  how  many 
degrees  of  motion  it  can  give  to  it,  nor  with  what 
rapidity  it  can  move  it.  Whence  it  follows  thativlien 
men  say  that  this  or  that  action  is  produced  by  the 
soul  which  has  dominion  over  the  body,  they  really 
do  not  know  what  they  are  talking  about,  and  are 
only  confessing  in  terms  flattering  to  their  vanity, 
.that  they  are  ignorant  of  the  true  cause  of  the  bodily 
actions  which  surprise  and  astonish  them.  But  they 
may  say,  that  whether  they  do  or  do  not  knoAv  by 
what  means  the  soul  moves  the  body,  they  neverthe- 


PART  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  131 


less  know  experience  that  unless  the  human  soul 
Avas  capable  of  thinking  the  body  would  be  inert ; 
and  farther,  that  experience  teaches  them  also  that  it 
is  in  the  power  of  the  soul  alone  to  speak  or  to  be  si- 
lent, and  to  do  or  abstain  from  doing  many  other 
things  Avliich,  consequently,  they  believe  must  de- 
pend entirely  on  decisions  of  the  soul. 

But,  as  regards  the  first  iioint,  I ask  whether  expe- 
rience does  not  also  teacli  that  the  mind  or  soul  is 
powerless  to  think  when  the  body  is  in  a state  of  in- 
ertia ? For  when  the  body  lies  sunk  in  slee]i  the 
mind  slumbers  at  the  same  time,  and  has  not  tlie 
jiower  of  thinking  AAdiich  it  has  Avhen  aivake. 
Further,  I believe  that  all  exiierience  teaches  us 
that  the  mind  is  not  at  all  times  equally  apt  or  fit  for 
thinking  on  the  same  subject,  but  that  in  the  degree 
that  the  mind  is  more  or  less  apt  to  have  images  of 
this  or  that  object  excited  in  it,  so  is  it  more  or  less 
apt  for  the  contemplation  of  this  or  that  subject. 

But  it  may  be  said  that,  in  so  far  as  the  body  only 
is  considered,  it  Avonld  be  impossible  to  deduce  solely 
from  the  laAvs  of  corporeal  nature  the  causes  of  edi- 
fices, paintings,  and  all  things  of  the  kind  Avhicli  aie 
the  work  of  human  art  alone ; and  that  the  human 
body,  unless  it  ivas  moved  and  determined  by  the 
soul,  would  be  incapable  of  constructing  a temple,  or 
any  other  edifice.  But  I have  already  shown  that 
they  Avho  speak  thus,  do  not  know  of  what  the  body 
is  capable,  nor  what  can  be  deduced  from  the  consid- 
eration of  its  nature  alone  ; and  that  they  themselves 
must  have  had  experience  of  many  things  accom- 
plished solely  by  the  laivs  of  nature,  Avhich  they 
Avould  not  have  believed  possible  unless  done  under 
the  direction  of  the  mind, — such  as  the  actions  Avhich 
somnambulists  perform  Avhile  sleeping  and  ivliich  are 


132 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


subjects  of  wonder  to  themselves  when  awake.  I 
add,  hnally,  that  from  the  structure  of  the  human 
body  itself,  which  is  fabricated  with  an  art  that  in- 
tinitely  surpasses  human  ingenuity  and  skill, — and 
leaving  out  of  the  question  all  that  I have  just 
shown — I say  that  from  the  structure  of  the  human 
body,  and  from  its  nature,  under  whatever  attribute 
it  is  considered,  there  must  follow  from  it  an  inhnity 
of  capabilities. 

As  regards  the  second  point,  I willingly  admit  that 
human  affairs  would  go  on  much  better  if  it  were 
equally  in  the  power  of  men  to  speak  or  to  be  silent. 
But  exjierience  more  than  sufficiently  teaches  us  that 
there  is  nothing  which  men  control  less  than  the 
tongue,  and  that  they  are  no  less  incapable  of  mod- 
erating or  governing  their  appetites  ; whence  it  hap- 
pens that  many  persons  believe  that  we  act  freel}^ 
only  in  respect  of  those  things  which  we  desire 
slightly  or  feebly,  because  then  the  appetite  for  those 
things  can  be  easily  controlled  by  the  recollection  of 
other  things  which  our  memory  frequently  recalls  ; 
but  that  we  by  no  means  act  freely  in  respect  of  those 
things  which  Ave  eagerly  or  strongly  desire,  and 
which  the  recollection  of  other  things  cannot  make 
us  cease  to  desire.  But  indeed  nothing  would  pre- 
vent these  persons  from  believing  that  our  actions  are 
always  free,  if  they  did  not  know  by  experience  that 
we  do  many  acts  of  Avhich  Ave  afterAvards  repent, 
and  that  Ave  often,  AAdien  agitated  by  contending  pas- 
sions, see  AAdiat  is  best  and  yet  do  AAdiat  is  Avorst.  It 
is  tlius  the  infant  Avould  believe  that  it  freely  desires 
the  breast, — the  angered  boy  that  he  freely  seeks  re- 
venge,— the  timid  that  he  is  free  to  fly.  It  is  thus 
also  that  an  intoxicated  man  Avould  believe  that  he 
speaks  by  the  free  aauII  of  his  soul  the  AA^ords  AAfliich 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  133 


when  again  sober  he  wishes  he  had  not  spoken, — and 
it  is  even  thus  that  the  delirious,  the  garrulous,  chil- 
dren, and  many  others,  would  believe  that  they  s^^eak 
by  a free  decision  of  the  soul,  when,  nevertheless, 
they  cannot  restrain  the  impulse  to  speak.  Thus, 
then,  experience  no  less  clearly  than  reason  suffi- 
ciently teaches  that  men  believe  themselves  free 
solely  because  they  are  conscious  of  their  actions, 
blit  ignorant  of  the  causes  which  determine  them  ; 
and  tliat,  moreover,  the  decisions  of  the  soul  are 
nothing  else  than  its  appetites,  which  vary  in  accord- 
ance with  the  variable  dispositions  or  states  of  the 
body.  For  every  one,  indeed,  would  control  all 
things  according  to  his  own  desires  ; and  they,  more- 
over, who  are  agitated  by  conflicting  passions 
scarcely  know  what  they  desire  ; whilst  they  wlio 
are  passive  or  have  no  desire,  are  easily  led  this  way 
or  that. 

ISTow  it  clearly  results  from  all  that  has  been  said, 
that  tlie  decisions  of  the  soul  as  well  as  the  appetites 
and  determinations  of  the  body  are  simultaneous  in 
nature,  or  rather  that  they  are  one  and  the.same  thing, 
which  when  considered  under  the  attribute  of  thou  (flit 
and  exjflained  by  it,  we  call  a decision;  and  when 
considered  under  the  attribute  of  extension  and  de- 
duced from  the  laws  of  motion  and  rest,  we  call  a de- 
termination ; — but  all  this  will  appear  still  more 
clearly  in  the  course  of  this  treatise.  There  is  another 
point,  however,  to  which  I would  here  ask  particular 
attention, — namely : that  we  are  unable  to  do  any- 
thing by  a decision  of  the  soul  without  the  aid  of  the 
memory.  For  example  : we  cannot  speak  a single 
word  unless  we  remember  it.  Further,  it  evidently 
does  not  depend  upon  the  free  power  of  the  soul 
either  to  remember  or  to  forget  anything.  Where- 


134 


SPINOZA’S'  ETHICS. 


fore,  we  believe  that  it  is  only  in  the  power  of  the 
sonl,  by  its  sole  decision,  to  speak  or  to  be  silent  on 
a thing  which  is  remembered.  But  when  in  sleep  we 
dream  that  we  speak,  we  believe  we  speak  by  virtue 
of  the  free  decision  of  the  soul ; and  yet  we  either  do 
not  speak  at  all,  or  if  we  do,  it  is  by  a spontaneous 
movement  of  the  body.  And  if,  further,  we  dream 
that  we  keep  certain  things  secret,  this  is  in  virtue  of 
a like  decision  of  the  soul  as  that  whereby  when 
awake  we  keep  silent  on  things  we  know.  Lastly,  do 
Ave  dream  that  by  a decision  of  the  soul  Ave  do  certain 
things  AAdiich  aAvake  Ave  Avould  not  dare  to  do — I Avould 
then  Avish  to  knoAv  Avhether  there  are  tAvo  kinds  of  de- 
(usions  of  the  soul, — one  fantastical,  another  free  ? 
And  if  AA^earenot  disposed  to  be  so  irrational  as  to  ad- 
mit that  there  are,  then  it  is  necessary  to  concede  that 
this  decision  of  the  soul  AAdiich  is  belicA^ed  to  be  free, 
is  really  not  distinguishable  from  imagination  or 
memory  itself  ; and  that  it  is,  in  fact,  nothing  but  the 
affirmation  Avhich  an  idea,  in  so  far  as  it  is  an  idea, 
necessarily  invohms  {mde  Prop.  49,  Part  II.).  Conse- 
cpiently,  these  decisions  arise  in  the  soul  by  the  same 
necessity  as  the  ideas  of  things  actually  existing  arise 
in  it.  They,  therefore,  AAdio  believe  that  they  speak, 
or  are  silent,  or  do  anything  Avhatsoever  by  the  free 
decisions  of  the  soul,  dream  AAuth  their  eyes  oiien. 

PKOP.  III. — The  actions  of  the  soul  piroceed 
only  from  adequate  ideas,  and  its  piassions 
only  from  inadequate  ideas. 

Deaionstr. — That  which  constitutes  the  beginning 
{primiiin)  or  essence  of  the  soul  is  nothing  else  than 
the  idea  of  the  body  existing  in  act  (by  Propis.  11  and 


PAPvT  in.— OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OH  PASSIOXS.  135 


13,  Part  I L), which  idea  itself  (by  Prop.  15,  Part  II.) 
is  composed  of  many  other  ideas,  some  of  wliich  (by 
Coroll.  Prop.  38,  Part  II.)  are  adequate,  and  some  in- 
adequate (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  29,  Part  II.).  Whatever 
therefore  follows  from  the  nature  of  the  soul  of  which 
the  soul  is  the  proximate  cause,  and  by  which  it  must 
be  understood,  must  necessarily  follow  either  from  an 
adequate  or  an  inadequate  idea.  But  in  so  far  as  th(‘ 
soul  (by  Prop.  1)  has  inadequate  ideas,  in  so  far  does 
it  necessarilj^  suffer  ; therefore  the  actions  of  the  soul 
follow  only  from  adequate  ideas,  and  the  soul  suffers 
only  in  so  far  as  it  has  inadequate  ideas,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — We  see,  therefore,  that  the  passions  are 
not  to  be  referred  to  the  soul  except  in  so  far  as  it  has 
in  itself  something  which  involves  negation  ; or  in  so 
tar  as  it  is  considered  as  a part  of  nature,  which  part 
cannot  be  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived  by  itself  in- 
dependently of  other  jiarts  ; and  for  this  reason  I 
(;ould  shoAV  that  the  passions  have  relation  to  particu- 
lar things  in  the  same  way  as  to  the  soul,  and  cannot 
1:^’ perceived  in  any  other  manner  ; but  my  intention 
is  to  treat  only  of  the  human  soul. 


PKOP.  lY. — Xo  thing  can  be  destroyed  except 
by  an  external  cause. 

Deaioxstr. — This  proposition  is  self-evident ; for 
the  dehnition  of  every  individual  thing  is  itself  the 
affirmation  and  not  the  negation  of  the  essence  of  that 
thing;  in  other  words,  it  alleges  its  essence— it  does 
not  abrogate  it.  Therefore,  so  long  as  a thing  is  con- 
sidered in  itself  alone,  Avithout  regard  to  external 
(‘auses,  nothing  can  be  discovered  in  it  by  Avhich  it 
can  be  destroj^ed.  Q.  e.  d? 


136 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  V. — In  so  far  as  things  are  conirarv  in 
nature,  that  is,  in  so  far  as  one  Avouhl  de- 
stroy another,  they  cannot  exist  in  the 
same  subject. 

De:\ioxstr. — For  if  they  could  associate  and  exist 
together  in  the  same  subject  at  the  same  time,  there 
would  then  be  present  in  the  same  subject  something 
which  would  cause  its  destruction,  which  (by  preced- 
ing Prop.)  is  absurd.  Therefore,  in  so  far  as  things 
are,  etc.  q.  e.  d.  i 

PROP.  VI. — Each  indiyidnal  thing  endeavors, 
in  so  far  as  it  can,  to  xiersevere  in  its  being. 

Demoxste. — For  individual  things  are  modes  which 
express  the  attributes  of  God  in  certain  determinate 
Avays  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  25,  Part  I.)  ; that  is  to  sa}^ 
(by  Prop.  34,  Part  I.),  they  are  things  AAdiich  express 
the  poAA^er  of  God — the  poAA^er  by  A\diich  God  is  and 
acts  in  certain  determinate  AAmys.  Veither  has  a thing 
anything  AAuthin  itself  by  AApicli  it  can  be  destroyed 
or  its  existence  abrogated  (by  Prop.  4)  ; on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  opposed  to  AAdjateAw  can  aimnl  its  exis- 
tence (by  preceding  Prop.).  Therefore,  in  so  far  as  it 
is  able,  eacli  individual  thing  endeavors  to  perse\'ere 
in  its  being,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  VII. — The  effort  by  which  each  indivi- 
dual thing  strives  to  persevere  in  its  being 
is  nothing  but  the  actual  essence  of  the 
thing  itself. 

Demoxste. — The  essence  of  anything  AAdiatsoever 
being  given,  certain  results  necessarily  folloAv  from  it 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  137 


(by  Prop.  36,  Part  I.) ; nor  can  things  effect  any  re- 
sult that  does  not  necessarily  follow  from  their  deter- 
minate nature  (by  Prop.  29,  Part  I.).  Wherefore 
the  power  or  effort  of  each  individual  thing  by  which, 
either  alone  or  with  other  things,  it  acts,  or  endeavors 
to  act, — that  is  (by  Prop.  6),  the  power  or  effort  hy 
which  it  strives  to  persevere  in  its  being,  is  nothing 
but  the  given  or  actual  essence  of  that  thing,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  YIII. — The  effort  by  Avhicli  each  indi- 
vidual thing  strives  to  persevere  in  its  being 
involves  no  finite  time,  but  indefinite  time. 

Demoxstr. — For  if  it  involved  a limited  time  which 
determined  the  duration  of  the  thing,  then  by  the 
liower  by  which  alone  it  existed,  it  would  follow  that 
after  this  limited  time  the  thing  could  no  longer 
exist,  but  would  be  destroyed.  But  this  (by  Prop. 
4)  is  absurd.  Therefore  the  effort  by  which  a thing 
exists  involves  no  definite  time  ; but,  on  the  contrary 
(by  same  Prop.  4),  if  it  is  not  destroyed  by  an  external 
cause,  the  same  power  by  which  it  already  exists  will 
cause  it  to  exist  forever  ; therefore  the  effort  of  a 
thing  to  persevere  in  being  involves  indefinite  time. 
Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  IX. — The  sonl,  whether  as  it  has  clear 
and  distinct  ideas,  or  whether  as  it  lias 
confused  ideas,  endeavors  to  persevere  in 
its  being  for  an  indefinite  time,  and  is  con- 
scious of  its  effort. 

Demoxstr. — The  essence  of  the  sonl  is  constituted 
of  adequate  and  inadequate  ideas  (as  shown  in  Prop. 
3),  and  so  (by  Prop.  7)  both  as  it  xiossesses  the  one 


138 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


and  tlie  other,  it  strives  to  persevere  in  its  being  and 
for  an  indeiinite  period  of  time  (by  Prop.  8).  And 
inasinncli  as  the  sonl  (by  Prop.  23,  Part  II.)  through 
its  ideas  of  the  affections  of  the  body  is  necessarily 
conscious  of  itself,  therefore  it  follows  (by  Prop.  7) 
that  the  soul  is  conscious  of  its  effort  to  persevere  in 
being,  q.  e.  d. 

SciroL. — This  effort,  when  referred  to  the  soul  alone, 
is  called  loill ; but  when  referred  to  soul  and 
body  together,  it  is  called  appetite^  which,  therefore, 
is  nothing  less  than  the  veiy  essence  of  man,  from  the 
nature  of  which  whatever  serves  for  his  preservation 
necessarily  follows,  and  under  the  influence  of  which 
his  actions  are  determined.  Moreover,  there  is  no 
difference  between  ax)petite  and  desire  save  that  desire 
is  commonly  referred  to  man  in  so  far  as  he  is  con- 
scious of  his  appetites  ; and  for  this  reason  it  may  be 
defined  thus : Desire  is  appetite  with  consciousness 
of  it.  From  what  has  been  previously  said,  it  appears 
that  we  do  not  will,  crave,  or  desire,  because  we  judge 
a thing  to  be  good, — but  that,  on  the  contraiy,  we 
judge  a thing  to  be  good  because  we  have  the  appetite 
or  desire  for  it,  strive  after  it,  and  will  to  possess  it. 

PROP.  X. — An  idea  that  excludes  the  existence 
of  the  body  cannot  be  present  in  our  sonl ; 
— it  is  contrary  or  opposed  to  it. 

Demoxstr. — Thei’e  can  be  nothing  in  our  body  that 
tends  to  destroy  it  (by  Prop,  o) ; and  so  neither  can 
there  be  any  idea  of  such  a thing  in  God,  in  so  far  as 
God  has  an  idea  of  our  body  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  9, 
Part  II.)  ; that  is  (by  Props.  11  and  13,  Part  II.), 
the  idea  of  such  a thing  cannot  be  present  in  our 
soul ; but,  on  the  contrary,  since  (by  Props.  11  and 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSION'S.  139 


13,  Part  II.)  tlie  beginning  {iirimmii),  tliat  wliicli 
(anistitntes  the  essence  of  the  sonl,  is  the  idea  of  the 
body  actually  existing,  it  follows  that  the  affirmation 
of  tlie  existence  of  the  body  is  the  lirst  and  funda- 
mental effort  of  the  soul  (by  Prop.  7).  Therefore  an 
idea  Avliich  involved  a negation  of  the  existence  of  our 
body  would  be  contrary  to  our  soul,  etc.  e.  d. 

PlvOP.  XI. — Anything  that  aiignicnts  or  di- 
minishes, favors  or  hinders,  the  power  of 
our  body  to  act,  the  idea  of  that  same  thing 
augments  or  diminishes,  favors  or  hinders, 
the  power  of  onr  sonl  to  think. 

Demoxstp.. — This  Proposition  is  manifest  from 
Propositions  7 and  14,  Part  II. 

SciiOL. — We  see  therefore  that  the  soul  ma}^  suffer 
great  changes,  and  pass  by  turns  to  states  of  greater  or 
less  iierfection  ; and  it  is  these  states  or  passions  whicii 
the  affections  of  Joy  and  Sorrow  explain  to  us.  By 
joy,  therefore,  in  Avhat  follows,  I shall  understand 
a passion  in  lolilcli  the  soul  i^^f'Sses  to  a greater 
perfection;  and  by  sorrow  I shall  understand  a 
passion  in  loliicli  the  soul  passes  to  a less  perfection. 
Moreover,  the  affection  of  joy,  when  it  relates  to  both 
body  and  soul,  I shall  call  pleasure  {titillatio)  or 
hilarity  {hilar itas);  and  tlie  affection  of  sorrow  I 
shall  call  grief  {dolor),  or  melancholy  {melan- 

cholia). But  it  is  proper  to  remark  here  that  pleasure 
and  pain  are  referred  to  man  as  having  some  one  of 
his  parts  more  affected  than  others  ; and  hilar ity 
melancholy,  when  all  the  parts  are  alike  affected.  As 
to  Avhat  desire  is,  I have  explained  that  in  the  Scho- 
lium to  Prop.  9 ; and  I now  state  that  besides  these 
three  passions,  viz.  : Joy,  Sorrow,  and  Desire,  I know 


140 


s.'ixoza’s  ethics. 


of  no  other  primary  affections  ; and  I shall  show,  in 
what  follows,  that  all  other  passions  arise  from  these 
three.  But  before  going  further  I think  it  proper  to 
explain  Proposition  10  more  fallv,  in  order  that  we 
may  more  clearly  understand  how  and  in  what 
way  one  idea  is  contrary  or  opposed  to  another 
idea. 

In  tlie  Scholium  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.,  we  haye  shown 
that  the  idea  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  the 
soul  involves  the  existence  of  the  body  so  long  as  the 
body  itself  exists.  Furthermore,  from  what  has  been 
shown  in  tlie  Corollary  to  Prop.  8 and  its  Scholium, 
Part  II., — it  follows  that  the  present  existence  of  onr 
soul  depends  on  this  alone,  viz. — that  the  soul  in- 
volves the  actual  existence  of  the  body.  Finally,  it 
has  been  also  shown  {vide  Props.  17  and  18,  and 
Scholiums,  Part  II.)  that  the  power  of  the  soul 
whereby  it  imagines  and  remembers  things,  also  de- 
pends on  this  alone : that  the  soul  involves  the  ex- 
istence of  the  body.  From  which  it  follows  that  if 
the  present  existence  of  the  soul  and  its  power  of 
imagining  is  destroyed  or  annulled,  the  soul  immedi- 
ately ceases  to  affirm  the  present  existence  of  the 
body.  Xow  the  cause  which  makes  the  soul  cease  to 
affirm  the  present  existence  of  the  body  cannot  be  in 
the  soul  itself  (by  Prop.  4),  neither  can  it  be  in  the 
cessation  of  the  existence  of  the  body.  For  (by 
Prop.  6,  Part  II.)  the  cause  or  reason  of  the  soul’s 
affirming  the  existence  of  the  body,  is  not  because  of 
the  body’s  beginning  to  exist  (wherefore,  and  for  the 
same  reason,  neither  does  it  cease  to  affirm  the  ex- 
istence of  the  body  merel}"  because  the  body  ceases 
to  exist) ; but  (by  Prop.  8,  Part  II.)  it  arises  from 
another  idea  which  excludes  the  present  existence  of 
the  body,  and  consequently  of  the  soul  also, — an 


PAliT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  I4l 


idea,  therefore,  which  is  contrary  to  the  idea  that 
constitutes  the  essence  of  our  soul. 

PKOP.  XII. — The  soul  endeayors,  as  much  as  it 
can,  to  imagine  sucli  things  as  augment  or 
hiyor  the  power  of  the  body  to  act. 

Demoxstr. — So  long  as  the  human  body  is  affected 
liy  a mode  that  involyes  the  nature  of  some  external 
body,  so  long  will  the  human  soul  contemplate  that 
external  body  as  present  (by  Prop.  17,  Part  II.); 
consequently  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  II.),  so  loiigfas  the 
human  soul  contemplates  aii}^  external  body  as  pre- 
sent— that  is  (by  Schol.  to  same  Prop.),  imagines  it 
as  present — so  long  is  the  human  body  affected  by 
a mode  which  involyes  the  nature  of  that  external 
body.  And  thus,  so  long  as  the  soul  imagines  things 
which  augment  or  favor  the  power  of  the  body  to 
act,  so  long  is  the  body  affected  by  modes  which 
augment  or  favor  its  power  to  act  {i^ide  Post.  1) ; and 
consequently  (by  Prop.  11),  so  long  is  the  power  of 
the  soul  to  think  augmented  or  favored  ; and  there- 
fore (by  Props.  6 or  9)  the  soul  endeavors,  as  much  as 
it  can,  to  imagine  such  things  as,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XIII. — When  the  soul  imagines  such 
tilings  as  diminish  or  restrain  the  power 
of  the  body  to  act,  it  endeavors,  as  far  as 
it  is  able,  to  remember  other  things  which 
will  exclude  the  existence  of  such  things. 

Demoxstr. — So  long  as  the  soul  imagines  such 
things, -so  long  is  the  power  of  both  soul  and  body 
diminished  or  restrained  (as  demonstrated  by  pre- 
ceding Prop.) ; nevertheless,  the  soul  will  continue  to 


142 


SPI^'OZA'S  ETHICS. 


imagine  sucli  things  until  it  imagines  others  which 
exclude  their  present  existence  (by  Prop.  17,  Part 
II.) ; that  is  (as  just  shown),  the  power  of  both  soul 
and  bod}^  Avill  be  diminished  or  restrained  until  the 
soul  imagines  other  things  which  exclude  the  ex- 
istence of  such  things  ; and  consequently  (by  Pro}). 
9),  the  soul  endeavors,  so  far  as  it  is  able,  to  imagine 
or  remember  other  things  which,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  soul  is  averse 
to  imagine  such  things  as  diminish  or  restrain  its 
own  power  and  that  of  the  body. 

SciiOL. — By  what  precedes  we  can  clearly  under- 
stand what  Love  and  Hate  are,  namely : — love  is 
nothing  else  than  joy  concomitant  with  the  idea  of 
an  external  cause  ; and  hate  is  nothing  else  than 
sorrow  accompanied  by  the  id.ea  of  an  external  cause. 
AYe  see  also  that  he  who  loves  necessarily  endeavors 
to  have  present  and  to  preserve  the  thing  he  loves  : 
and,  on  the  contrary,  he  who  hates  endeavors  to  re- 
move or  destroy  the  thing  he  hates.  But  this  will  be 
more  fully  developed  in  what  follows. 


PHOP.  XIV. — If  the  soul  has  once  been  affected 
by  two  passions  at  the  same  time,  then, 
when  it  is  subsequently  affected  by  either 
of  them  it  will  also  be  affected  by  the 
other. 

Hehoxstu. — If  the  human  body  has  once  been 
affected  by  two  bodies  at  the  same  time,  when  there- 
after it  imagines  either  of  them  it  will  forthwith  re- 
member the  other  also  (by  Prop.  18,  Part  IL).  But 
the  imaginations  of  the  soul  indicate  the  affections 
of  our  own  body  rather  than  the  nature  of  external 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOJ^^S  OK  PASSIONS.  148 


bodies  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  16,  Part  II.).  Where- 
fore, if  the  body,  and  consequently  the  soul  Mdc 
Def.  8),  has  once  been  affected  by  two  affections  at 
the  same  time,  whenever  thereafter  it  is  affected  by 
either  of  them  it  will  also  be  affected  by  the  other. 
Q.  E.  D. 

PKOP.  XY. — Anything  wliatsoeAer  may  acci- 
dentally be  the  cause  of  joy,  or  of  sorrow, 
or  of  desire. 

Pemonstk. — Suppose  the  soul  to  be  affected  at  the 
same  time  by  two  affections  or  passions,  one  of  which 
neither  augments  nor  diminishes  its  power  to  act, 
whilst  the  other  either  augments  or  diminishes  it  {^ide^ 
Post.  1).  It  then  evidently  follows,  from  the  2)reced- 
ing  Proposition,  that  whenever  thereafter  the  soul  is 
affected  by  the  former  affection  as  true  cause — the 
one  which  of  itself  (by  hytiothesis)  neither  augments 
nor  diminishes  its  power  to  think — it  will  forthwith 
1)0  affected  by  the  other,  which  either  augments  or 
diminishes  its  2)0wer  to  think ; that  is  to  say  (by 
Schol.  to  Pro 2).  11),  the  soul  will  then  be  affected  by 
jojg  or  by  sorrow  ; so  that  tliese  affections,  not  of 
themselves,  but  by  accident  become  the  causes  of  joy 
or  of  sorrow.  In  the  same  way  it  might  easily  be 
shown  that  every  affection  or  23assion  may  by  acci- 
dent be  the  cause  of  desire,  q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — It  is  solely  because  we  have  contem2)la- 
ted  a tiling  with  feelings  of  2ffe5^sure  or  of  25^in,  of 
which  however  the  thing  in  question  is  not  itself  tlu‘ 
efficient  cause,  that  we  are  led  to  love  or  to  hate  it. 

Demoxstk. — For  it  ha202^ens  from  this  alone  (by 
Pro2).  14)  that  the  soul  Avlien  afterwards  it  imagines 
that  thing,  ex2)eriences  a feeling  of  2^feasure  or  of 


144 


SPmOZA'S  ETHICS. 


pain  ; tliafc  is  to  say  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  11),  tlie  power 
ot*  the  soul  and  body  is  angniented  ordiminislied,  etc.; 
and  conseqnentjy  (by  Prop.  12)  the  soul  either  desires 
to  imagine  that  thing,  or  it  is  averse  to  doing  so  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  13) ; in  other  words  (by  Schol.  to  Prop. 
13),  it  loves  or  it  hates  tliat  thing,  q.  e.  d. 

Schol. — Hence  we  understand  how  it  may  happen 
that  we  love  or  hate  certain  things  without  any  cause 
known  to  ns,  but  only  by  sympathy  and  antipathy 
(as  it  is  said).  To  this  same  class  must  also  be  re- 
ferred those  objects  which  alfect  us  witli  joy  or 
sorrow,  from  this  alone : that  they  have  some  resem- 
blance to  objects  which  usually  affect  us  with  these 
same  passions,  as  I shall  show  in  the  propositions 
following.  I know,  indeed,  that  the  writers  Avho  first 
introduced  the  words  sympathy  and  antipathy  in- 
tended to  signify  thereby  certain  occult  qualities  of 
tilings ; but,  nevertheless,  I think  it  is  permissible 
to  understand  by  them  some  known  and  even  very 
manifest  qualities. 

PllOP.  XYI. — We  love  or  hate  certain  things 
solely  because  we  imagine  that  they  re- 
semble some  object  which  ordinarily  affects 
ns  with  joy  or  sorroAV,  pleasure  or  pain, 
although  that  wherein  such  things  resemble 
this  object  may  not  be  the  efficient  cause  of 
the  affection  or  passion  we  experience. 

Demoxstk. — Whatever  there  is  of  similarity  be- 
tween the  things  and  the  object  in  question  the  soul 
(by  hypothesis)  has  contemplated  with  an  affection 
of  joy  or  of  sorrow;  and  therefore  (by  Pro]3.  14)  when 
the  soul  imagines  that  similitude  it  will  be  at  once 


PAPvT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OE  PASSIONS.  145 


affected  eitlier  with  joy  or  with  sorrow  ; and  conse- 
quently the  thing  in  which  this  similitude  is  per- 
ceived Avill  by  accident  (by  Prop.  15)  become  the 
cause  of  joy  or  of  sorrow  ; and  thus  (by  preceding 
Coroll.)  we  will  feel  love  or  hate  for  certain  things 
which  resemble  some  object,  although  that  wherein 
they  resemble  the  object  which  has  affected  ns  is  not 
the  efficient  cause  of  the  love  or  the  hate  we  experi- 
ence. Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  XVII. — If  a thing  which  was  wont  to» 
affect  ns  with  an  affection  or  passion  of  sor- 
row be  imagined  to  resemble  some  other 
tiling  which  was  wont  to  affPect  ns  just  as. 
strongly  with  an  affection  of  joy,  we  may 
at  the  same  time  have  both  love  and  hate 
for  it. 

Demonstr. — For  the  thing  here  (by  hypothesis)  is 
itself  the  cause  of  sorrow,  and  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  13) 
in  so  far  as  we  imagine  it  under  iliis  passion  we  have 
hate  for  it ; and,  further,  in  so  far  as  we  imagine  it  to 
resemble  some  other  thing  which  was  wont  to  affect 
ns  as  greatly  with  the  passion  of  joy,  we  are  then  dis- 
posed to  love  it  with  a joy  that  is  equally  as  great 
(by  preceding  Prop.).  And  thus  it  is  that  we  may  at 
the  same  time  both  love  and  hate  a thing,  q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — This  state  or  condition  of  the  soul  which 
arises  from  two  contrary  passions,  is  called  vacilla- 
tion of  mind ; and  in  respect  to  passion  it  is  what 
donbt  is  to  imagination  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  44,  Part 
II.).  Xor  do  vacillation  of  mind  and  doubt  differ  from 
one  another  save  in  the  degrees  of  more  and  less.  It 
is  to  be  observed, however,  that  in  the  preceding  Prop- 


140 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


position  I have  deduced  these  vacillations  of  mind 
from  sources  which  in  themselves  are  causes  of  one 
passion,  and  by  accident  causes  of  another  j)assion ; 
.and  this  I have  done  because  my  deductions  could  be 
made  more  easil}^  from  what  had  y^receded,  and  not 
because  I deny  that  vacillation  of  mind  arises  for  the 
most  part  from  an  object  Avhich  is  the  efficient  cause 
•of  both  of  the  contrary  passions.  For  the  human 
bod}^  (by  Post.  1,  Part  II.)  is  composed  of  many  individ- 
ual parts  of  diverse  nature,  and  therefore  (by  Ax.  1, 
.after  Lem.  3,  which  see  after  Prop.  13,  Part  II.)  is  sus- 
K'eptible  of  being  affected  in  many  different  ways  by 
one  and  the  same  body  ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
one  and  the  same  thing  may  be  affected  in  many 
ways,  so  may  one  and  the  same  part  of  the  body  be 
also  affected  in  many  different  ways.  For  these 
reasons  we  can  readil^^  conceive  that  one  and  the  same 
object  may  be  the  cause  of  numerous  -and  contrary 
.affections  or  passions. 

PKOP.  XYIII. — ]Man  may  be  affected  with  the 
same  passion  of  joy  or  sorrow  by  the  image 
of  a thing  past  or  future,  as  by  the  image 
of  a thing  present. 

Demonste. — So  long  as  a man  is  affected  by  the 
image  of  anything,  he  contemplates  it  as  present,  even 
although  it  does  not  exist  (by  Prop.  17,  Part  11. , and 
its  Coroll.) ; nor  does  he  imagine  it  as  past  or  future, 
save  and  in  so  far  only  as  its  image  is  connected  with 
a past  or  future  time  (^AZeSchol.  to  Prop.  44,  Part  II.). 
AVherefore  the  image  of  a thing  considered  in  itself 
alone  is  always  the  same  whether  it  be  referred  to  the 
past,  the  future,  or  the  present  time  ; that  is  (by  Co- 
roll. 2 to  Prop.  16,  Part  II.),  the  condition  or  the  affec- 


PART  III. — OF.  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  147 


tion  of  tlie  body  is  tlie  same  wlietlier  tlie  image  be  of 
a thing  past,  future,  or  present ; therefore  the  pas- 
sion of  Joy  or  of  sorrow  is  the  same  whether  the  im- 
age be  of  a tiling  past,  present,  or  future,  q.  e.  d. 

ScnoL.  1. — I here  designate  a thing  as  past  or  future 
in  so  far  as  we  have  been  or  will  be  affected  by  it. 
For  example : in  so  far  as  we  have  seen  or  will  see 
that  thing,  or  as  it  has  refreshed  or  will  refresh  us,  or 
as  it  has  pleased  or  pained  or  will  please  or  pain  us. 
etc.  For  in  so  far  as  we  thus  imagine  it,  we  so  far 
affirm  its  existence ; that  is,  the  body  is  affected  by 
no  affection  which  excludes  the  existence  of  the 
thing,  and  therefore  (by  Prop.  17, 'Part  II.)  the  body 
is  affected  by  the  image  of  the  thing  in  the  same  way 
as  if  the  thing  itself  were  present.  Nevertheless,  as  it 
frequently  happens  that  men  who  have  had  much  ex- 
perience ffuctuate  or  waver  so  long  as  they  contem- 
plate a thing  in  reference  to  the  future  or  the  past,  and 
are  mostly  in  doubt  as  to  what  will  occur  {^ide  Schol. 
to  Prop.  44,  Part  II.),  it  comes  to  j^ass  that  affections 
occasioned  by  such  imaginations  of  things  are  not 
fixed  and  constant,  but  are  generally  disturbed  by 
images  of  other  things  until  men  are  certain  as  to 
what  will  happen. 

SciiOL. — From  what  has  now  been  said  we  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  liope^fear^  security^  desjjair, 
contentment  ( gaudium J,  and  the  stings  of  conscience. 
//079c  is  nothing  else  than  an  inconstant  joy  arising 
from  the  image  of  a thing  future  or  past,  of  the  issue 
of  which  we  are  in  doubt ; /car,  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
inconstant  sorrow  born  also  of  the  image  of  a doubt- 
ful event  or  thing.  But  take  away  doubt  from  these 
passions,  then  liojge  is  turned  into  security,  and  fear 
into  despair  ; that  is  to  say,  Joy  or  sorrow  arises  from 
the  images  of  things  which  had  inspired  us  with  fear 


148 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


or  hope.  As  to  contentment,  that  is  joy  born  of  the 
image  of  a past  tiling  of  the  issue  of  which  we  had 
been  in  doubt.  Lastly,  the  sting  of  conscience,  or  re- 
morse, is  the  sorrow  opposed  to  contentment. 

PEOP.  XIX. — He  wlio  imagines  the  destruction 
of  the  thing  he  loves,  is  grieved  ; if  he  im- 
agines that  it  is  safe,  he  rejoices. 

Demonstr. — The  soul  endeavors,  as  much  as  it  can, 
to  imagine  whatever  increases  or  assists  the  power  of 
the  body  to  act  (by  Prop.  12),  that  is  (by  Schol.  to 
Proi).  13),  to  imagine  such  things  as  it  loves.  Xow 
imagination  is  aided  by  whatever  implies  the  exist- 
ence of  things,  and  on  the  contrary  it  is  repressed  by 
whatever  excludes  their  existence  (by  Prop.  17,  Part 
II.).  Therefore  those  images  of  things  which  sup- 
pose the  existence  of  a thing  loved  aid  the  effort  of 
the  soul  whereby  it  endeavors  to  imagine  that  thing  ; 
in  other  words  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11),  they  affect 
the  soul  with  joy  ; and,  on  the  contrary,  those  images 
which  exclude  the  existence  of  the  thing  loved  hinder 
or  repress  the  efforts  of  the  soul,  that  is  (by  same 
Schol.),  they  affect  the  soul  with  sorrow.  He,  there- 
fore, who  imagines  the  destruction  of  the  thing  he 
loved,  is  grieved,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

PKOP.  XX. — He  who  imagines  the  destruction 
of  the  thing  he  hates,  rejoices. 

Demonstr. — The  soul  (by  Prop.  13)  endeavors  to 
imagine  whatever  excludes  the  existence  of  things 
that  lessen  or  repress  the  power  of  the  body  to  act  ; 
in  other  words  (by  Schol.  to  same  Prop.),  it  endeavors 
to  imagine  whatever  excludes  the  existence  of  the 
thing  it  hates  ; thus  does  the  image  of  a thing  which 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OH  PASSIOXS.  149 


excludes  the  existence  of  a iiated  object  favor  this 
effort  of  the  soul ; that  is  to  say  (by  Schol  to  Prop. 
11),  it  affects  the  soul  with  joy.  He,  therefore,  avIio 
itiiagines  the  destruction  of  Avhat  he  hates,  rejoices. 

Q.  E.  H. 


PROP.  XXI. — He  Avho  imagines  the  thing  he 
loves  to  be  aftected  with  sorrow  or  joy, 
experiences  these  same  atFections  himself ; 
and  either  of  these  affections  will  be  greater 
or  less  in  him  who  loves,  as  the  affection 
is  greater  or  less  in  the  thing  that  is  loved. 

HehoxstPv. — The  images  of  things  (as  demonstrated 
in  Prop.  19)  which  imply  the  existence  of  the  thing 
loved  are  favorable  to  the  effort  whicli  the  soul  makes 
to  imagine  the  beloved  thing  itself.  But  joy  implies 
the  existence  of  the  thing  for  which  it  is  felt,  and  this 
by  so  much  the  more  as  the  passion  of  joy  is  greater  : 
for  joy  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  is  the  transition  to  a 
higher  perfection.  Therefore  the  image  of  joy  in  the 
thing  loved  favors  the  effort  in  the  soul  of  him  who 
loves  ; in  other  words  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11),  it  affects  ^ 

him  who  loves  with  joy,  and  so  much  the  more  as  this  ^ . if  r 
affection  is  greater  in  the  thing  loved.  This  is  the  - 

first  point.  Again,  in  so  far  as  anything  is  affected 
Avith  sorroAv,  in  so  far  is  that  thing  enfeebled,  and 
this  by  so  much  the  more  the  more  it  is  affected  with 
sorroAv  (b}"  same  Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  ; therefore  (by 
Prop.  19)  he  vdio  imagines  the  thing  he  loA^es  to  be' 
affected  AAuth  soitoav  will  also  be  affected  \\dth  sorrow, 
and  this  so  much  the  more  as  the  passion  of  sorrow  in 
the  thing  he  loves  is  greater,  q.  e.  d. 


150 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


PROP.  XXIT. — If  Sve  iuiagiiic  any  person  as 
cansinc^  joy  to  tlie  tiling  we  love,  we  will 
be  affected  with  love  or  liking  for  that 
person  ; if,  on  the  contrary,  we  imagine  that 
person  as  causing  sorrow  to  the  thing  we 
love,  we  will  he  affected  with  hate  or  dis- 
like for  that  person. 

Demonstk. — Whoever  causes  joy  or  sorrow  to  the 
thing  we  love  causes  us  to  feel  those  same  passions 
also,  if  we  imagine  the  thing  we  love  to  be  truly  af- 
fected by  the  joy  or  sorrow  so  caused  (by  preceding 
Prop.).  The  joy  or  sorrow  we  then  feel,  however,  is 
supposed  to  be  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  an  exter- 
nal cause.  Therefore  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  13)  if  we 
imagine  any  person  as  causing  joy  or  sorrow  to  the 
thing  we  love,  we  will  be  affected  with  love  or  hate 
for  that  person,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Proposition  21  explains  to  us  what  co??i- 
miseration  is.  It  may  be  defined  as  sorroio  ai'ising 
from  the  misfortune  of  another.  But  by  what  name 
we  are  to  designate  the  joy  that  arises  from  the  good 
fortune  or  happiness  of  another,  I do  not  know.  As 
to  the  love  we  feel  towards  one  who  does  good  to 
another,  we  shall  call  it  a^jyrohation  {favor);  and 
on  the  contrary,  the  hatred  we  feel  towards  whoso- 
ever does  evil  to  another,  we  shall  call  indignation. 
Finally,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  we  not  only  feel  pity 
or  commiseration  for  a thing  we  have  loved  (as  shown 
in  Prop.  21),  but  we  also  bestow  it  upon  a thing  for 
•Avhich  we  before  had  no  affection,  provided  only  that 
we  judge  it  to  be  not  unlike  ourselves  (as  I shall  soon 
show)  ; and  further,  that  we  feel  favorably  disposed 
towards  whosoever  does  good  to  one  like  unto  our- 


PART  III.  — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  151 


selves, — and  on  the  contraiy,  we  feel  indignation  for 
him  who  inflicts  injury  on  one  like  unto  ourselves. 


PEOP.  XXIII. — He  who  imagines  that  the 
thing  he  hates  is  affected  with  sorrow,  will 
rejoice  ; if,  on  the  contrary,  he  imagines 
tliat  it  is  affected  with  joy,  he  will  grieye  ; 
and  each  of  these  affections  will  he  greater 
or  less  as  its  contrary  affection  is  greater 
or  less  in  the  thing  he  hates. 

Demonstr. — In  so  far  as  the  thing  hated  is  affected 
with  sorrow,  in  so  far  is  it  enfeebled  or  incapacitated 
to  act ; and  by  so  much  the  more  the  more  it  is  af- 
fected with  sorrow  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11).  He,  tliere- 
fore  (by  Prop.  20),  who  imagines  the  thing  he  hates 
to  be  affected  with  sorrow  will  be  affected  with  joy, 
and  this  so  much  the  more  the  more  he  imagines  the 
hated  thing  to  be  affected  Avith  sorrow.  This  is  tlie 
first  point.  Again,  joy  affirms  the  existence  of  the 
thing  that  experiences  it  (by  same  Schol.  to  Prop. 
11),  and  so  much  the  more  the  greater  the  joy  is  con- 
ceived to  be.  If  tlierefore  any  one  imagines  the  thing 
he  hates  to  be  affected  with  joy,  this  imagination  (by 
Prop.  13)  Avill  restrain  or  repress  tlie  effort  of  his  soul ; 
that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11),  he  aa’Iio  hates  will  be 
still  more  affected  AAUth  sorrow,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

Schol. — Such  joy,  hoAvever,  can  scarcely  be  solid 
and  free  from  conflict  of  soul.  For  (as  I shall  soon 
shoAv  in  Prop.  27)  in  so  far  as  Ave  imagine  a being  like 
ourselves  affected  Avith  soitoav,  so  far  must  AA’^e  too  be 
grieved  ; and  contrariAAuse,  if  AA^e  imagine  tliat  being  as 
affected  AAutli  joy.  But  here  AA^e  confine  our  attention 
to  the  emotion  of  Itaie. 


152 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  XXIY. — If  we  imagine  some  person  as 
causing  joy  or  pleasure  to  a thing  we  hate 
or  dislike,  we  shall  be  affected  with  hate  or 
dislike  towards  that  person  also.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  we  imagine  some  xierson  as 
causing  sorroAV  or  pain  to  a thing  we  hate, 
we  shall  be  affected  with  love  or  liking 
towards  that  person. 

Demoxstk. — This  Proposition  is  demonstrated  in 
the  same  manner  as  Prop.  22,  which  see. 

ScnoL. — These  and  similar  passions  of  hate  are  re- 
ferred to  envy^  which,  consequently,  is  nothing  else 
than  hate  itself,  in  so  far  considered  as  disposing  men 
in  such  wise  that  they  rejoice  at  the  ills  or  misfor- 
tunes of  others,  and,  on  the  contrary,  grieve  at  the 
good  that  befalls  them. 

PROP.  XXV. — We  endeavor  to  affirm  every- 
thing of  ourselves  and  of  the  thing  we  love 
which  we  imagine  v»  ill  affect  ourselves  and 
the  thing  we  love  with  joy  or  gladness; 
and,  on  the  contrary,  we  endeavor  to  nega- 
tive whatever  we  imagine  will  affect  our- 
selves and  the  thing  we  love  with  sorrotv. 

Demoxstr. — Whatever  we  imagine  will  affect  the 
thing  we  love  with  joy  or  sorrow,  affects  ns  with  joy 
or  sorrow  (by  Proji.  21).  But  the  soul  (by  Prop.  12) 
endeavors,  as  much  as  possible,  to  imagine  whatever 
can  affect  ns  with  joy  ; that  is  (by  Proj).  17  and  its 
Coroll.,  Part  II.),  to  contemplate  it  as  present ; and  on 
the  contrary  (by  Prop.  13),  it  strives  to  exclude  the 
•existence  of  whatever  affects  us  with  sorrow.  There- 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OH  PASSIONS.  153 


fore  we  endeavor  to  affirm,  both  of  ourselves  and  of 
the  thing  loved,  whatever  we  imagine  Aviil  affect  our- 
selves and  the  thing  loved  with  joy  or  gladness  ; and 
on  the  contrary,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXYI. — We  endeavor  to  affirm  of  tlie 
thing  we  hate  or  dislike  whatever  we 
imagine  will  affect  it  with  sorrow ; and 
on  the  contrary,  to  negative  whatever  we 
imagine  might  affect  it  with  joy. 

Demonstr. — This  Proposition  follows  from  Prop. 
23,  as  the  j) receding  one  (25)  follows  from  Prop.  21. 

SciioL. — We  see  by  the  foregoing  how  easily  it 
happens  that  a man  may  think  more  favorably  of 
himself  and  of  the  things  he  loves  than  is  right ; and 
on  the  contrary,  less  favorably  of  the  things  he  hates 
or  dislikes  than  is  just.  When  this  imagination  has 
I'espect  to  the  person  who  thinks  more  favorably  of 
himself  than  is  proper,  it  is  called  or  haughti- 

ness^ a kind  of  delirium  in  which  man  with  his  eyes 
open  dreams  that  he  is  all  and  can  accomplish 
all  that  he  merely  imagines  ; and,  because  he  con- 
templates the  fictions  he  imagines  as  realities,  he  re- 
joices ; that  is,  he  rejoices  so  long  as  he  does  not  im- 
agine things  that  exclude  their  existence  and  that 
determine  his  own  powers  of  action.  Pride  or 
haughtiness  therefore  is  a joy  that  arises  from  a man 
thinking  more  favorably  of  himself  than  is  right. 
Again,  the  joy  that  arises  from  a man  thinking  more 
liighly  of  another  than  is  right  is  called  respect  or 
esteem  {existimatio) ; and,  lastly,  that  which  arises 
from  man  thinking  less  favorably  of  another  than  is 
just  is  called  disrespect  or  contempt  {despectus). 


154 


spixoza's  ethics. 


PROl^.  XXYir. — When  ^^G  imagine  an  object 
like  onrselves  to  be  affected  by  some  par- 
ticular passion,  altliongli  that  object  has 
never  before  affected  us  we  are  affected  by 
a passion  similar  to  its  own. 

Demoxstk. — The  images  of  things  are  affections  of 
the  human  body,  the  ideas  of  which  represent  to  us 
external  bodies  just  as  if  they  were  present  to  us  (by 
Scliol.  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.) ; in  other  words  (by 
Prop.  16,  Part  II.),  the  ideas  of  Avhich  involve  at  the 
same  time  the  nature  of  our  own  body  and  the  nature 
of  the  external  body  present.  If,  therefore,  the  na- 
ture of  the  external  body  is  like  unto  the  nature  of 
our  own  body,  then  will  the  idea  of  the  external 
body  we  imagine  involve  an  affection  of  our  body 
similar  to  the  affection  of  the  external  body  ; and, 
consequently,  if  we  imagine  one  like  unto  ourselves 
to  be  affected  by  some  passion,  this  imagination  ex- 
presses an  affection  of  our  own  body  similar  to  the 
affection  of  the  body  imagined.  In  this  way  it  is  that 
in  imagining  one  like  unto  onrselves  to  be  affected 
by  a passion,  we  are  affected  by  a similar  passion. 
If,  however,  we  hate  or  dislike  the  individual  who 
resembles  us,  then  (by  Prop.  23)  will  we  be  affected 
by  a passion  contrary  to  his  own,  and  not  by  one 
similar  to  it.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL.  1. — This  imitation  of  iiassions,  when  referred 
to  sorrow,  is  called  comm  iseration  or  pity  (for  which 
vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  22)  ; but  when  referred  to  desire 
it  is  called  emulation^  which,  therefore,  is  nothing 
else  than  a desire  of  something  generated  in  us  by  our 
imagining  others  like  ourselves  to  have  similar  de- 
sires. 

CoKOLL.  1. — If  we  imagine  a person  who  has  never 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OK  PASSIOXS.  155 


before  affected  ns  to  be  tlie  cause  of  joy  or  pleasure  to 
one  like  ourselves,  Ave  then  feel  pleasantly  disposed 
tOAvards  him  ; if,  on  the  contrary,  AAm  imagine  that 
person  to  be  the  cause  of  soitoav  or  ])ain  to  one  like 
ourselves,  AA^e  hate  or  dislike  him. 

Deaioxstp. — This  is  to  be  demonstrated  in  the  same 
AA'ay  as  the  preceding  proposition — just  as  Prop.  22  is 
tlemonstrated  from  Prop.  21. 

CoKOLL.  2. — We  cannot  hate  the  thing  that  inspires 
us  Avith  pity  because  its  suffering  affects  us  Avitli 

SOITOAV. 

Deafoxstr. — For  if  it  Avere  possible  to  hate  it  on 
that  account,  then  should  Ave  rejoice  at  its  suffering 
(by  Prop.  23),  AAdiich  is  against  the  hypothesis. 

Coroll.  3. — W^e  endearor  as  far  as  possible  to  re- 
lieve the  object  we  pity  from  its  suffering. 

Deafoxstr. — Anything  that  causes  pain  or  sorroAv  to 
the  object  of  our  pity  affects  us  also  aatIIi  alike  feeling 
of  pain  or  soitoav  (by  preceding  Prop.),  and  then  Ave 
endeavor  to  remember  AAdiatevei’  suppresses  the  exist- 
ence of  that  thing  or  destroys  it  (by  Prop.  13)  ; that 
is  to  say  (by  Prop.  9),  Ave  desire  its  destruction  or  are 
moved  to  destroy  it,  and  in  this  AAmy  Ave  seek  to  relieAm 
the  object  of  our  pity  from  its  suffering,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL.  2. — The  Avill  or  desire  to  do  good  AAdiich 
arises  fi’om  the  pity  AA^e  feel  for  the  object  upon  AAdiich 
AA'e  Avould  confer  a benefit,  is  called  henexolence^  and  is 
nothing  but  a desire  springing  from  commiseration  or 
pity.  As  to  Avhat  might  further  be  said  of  the  love 
and  hate  we  feel  for  one  avIio  does  good  or  evil  to  the 
thing  Ave  imagine  resembles  ourselves,  see  the  Schol. 
to  Prop.  22. 

PROP.  XXVIII. — WhatsoeA'er  avc  imagine  may 
conduce  to  joy  or  pleasure  Ave  endeuA  or  to 


SPINOZA*  S ETJIICS. 


lo6 


promote  orbring  about;  anti  Ave  strhx  to 
put  aside  or  destroy  AAdiatsoeA^er  Ave  imagine 
is  opposed  to  these,  or  conduces  to  sorrow 
or  pain. 

DEAit)xsTK. — We  endeaA’or,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
imagine  AvliatsoeA^er  we  belieA'e  Avill  conduce  to  joy 
(b}^  Prop.  12) ; in  other  words  (by  Prop.  17,  Part  II.)* 
we  endeavor,  as  far  as  possible,  to  contemplate  sucli 
things  as  present  or  actually  existing.  But  the  effort 
or  power  of  the  soul  in  thinking  is  equal  and  alike  in 
nature  to  the  effort  or  jioAA^er  of  the  body  in  acting 
(as  clearly  ax)pears  from  the  Corolls,  to  Props.  7 and 
11,  Part  II.).  We  endeavor,  therefore,  to  have  the 
things  that  conduce  to  joy  exist  absolutely,  or  (which 
by  Schol.  to  Prop.  9 is  the  same  thing)  we  desire 
and  intend  that  they  shall  exist.  This  is  the  first 
point.  Again,  if  ^ye  imagine  that  that  Avhich  we  be- 
lieve to  be  a cause  of  soitoaa',  in  other  Avords  (by  Schol. 
to  Prop.  13),  that  that  AAdiich  we  hate  is  destroyed,  ^ve 
rejoice  (by  Prop.  20),  and  AA^e  make  an  effort  either  to 
destroy  it,  or  (by  Prop.  13)  to  put  it  aside,  so  that  Ave 
AA'ill  no  longer  contemplate  it  as  present.  This  is  the 
second  point.  Therefore,  AAdiatsoeA^er  AA'e  imagine  may 
conduce  to  joy,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXIX. — We  eiideuA  or  to  do  ca  erything 
» Avliicli  AA  e imagine  men*  aa  ill  regard  faA^or- 

I o o 

or  Avitli  pleasure ; and  on  the  con- 
trary, AA  e aA^oid  doing  aa  liateA  cr  aa  e imagine 
they  Avill  regard  Avitli  displeasure. 

* It  is  to  be  understood  that  here  and  in  the  propositions  following, 

I refer  to  men  who,  individually,  have  not  before  affected  us  in  any 
w ay . — {Sp  inoza.) 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PxVSSIOXS-  lo7 


Demoxstr. — When  we  imagine  that  men  love  or 
hate  this  or  that  thing,  we  ourselves  are  disposed  to 
love  or  hate  it  likewise  (b}"  Prop.  27);  that  is  to  say 
(by  Scdiol.  to  Prop.  13),  we  rejoice  in  or  we  are  grieved 
by  the  presence  of  that  thing  ; and  consequently  (b}^ 
preceding  Proj).)  Ave  endeavor  to  do  that  which  Ave 
imagine  men  Avill  regard  AAdtli  pleasure,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — This  inclination  or  effort  to  do  or  not  to  do 
certain  things  from  the  sole  motive  of  pleasing  men  is 
called  ambition^  especially  Avhen  AV’e  strive  to  please 
the  mnltitnde  so  earnestly  that  Ave  do  or  omit  to  do 
certain  things  to  the  detriment  of  ourselves  or  to  the 
advantage  of  others.  In  other  cases  it  is  ordinarily 
jjoliteness^  cimlity  {Jmmanitas).  Further,  the 
joy  that  Ave  exx^erience  from  an  action  that  aa^c  imagine 
has  been  done  by  another  for  the  x3nri)ose  of  pleasing 
us,  \ Q^W  2^raise  ilaitdo) ; and  the  soitoav  AA’e  ex^ieri- 
ence  from  aversion  for  the  action  of  another,  I call 
blame  {xitwpero). 


PEOP.  XXX. — He  who  has  done  something 
Avhich  he  imagines  giA  es  joy  or  x^leasnre  to 
others,  feels  joy  also,  accomxianied  aa  ith  the 
idea  of  himself  as  its  cause  ; in  other  aa  ords, 
he  contemxilates  himself  Avith  joy  or  satis- 
faction. If,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  done 
something  Avliich  he  imagines  has  occa- 
sioned sorroAV  or  pain  to  others,  he  Avill 
contemxilate  himself  Avitli  sorroAV  or  dis- 
satisfaction . 

Deaioxstr. — He  aaTio  imagines  that  he  has  caused 
joj  or  sorroAv  to  others,  thereby  ex^jeriences  (by  Proji 


158 


SPIXOZA  S ETHICS. 


27)  joy  or  sorrow  liiniself.  But  as  man  (by  Props.  19 
and  28,  Part  II.)  is  self-conscious  through  the  affec- 
tions or  passions  which  determine  him  to  act,  there- 
fore he  who  has  done  something  which  he  imagines 
will  give  pleasure  to  another  will  himself  experience 
pleasure  through  his  consciousness  of  himself  as  its 
cause  ; in  other  words,  he  will  regard  himself  with 
joy  or  satisfaction  ; and,  on  the  contrary,  etc.  Q.  E.  n. 

SciiOL. — As  love  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  18)  is  joy  or 
pleasure  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  an  external  cause, 
and  hate  is  soirow  or  pain  also  accompanied  by  the 
idea  of  an  external  cause,  so  Avill  this  joy  and  sorrow 
be  species  of  love  and  hate.  But  as  love  and  hate  are 
referred  to  external  objects  we  have  to  indicate  these 
passions  by  other  names.  The  joy  or  pleasure  accom- 
l)anied  by  the  idea  of  an  external  cause  we  will  there- 
fore designate  glory  {gloria)^  and  the  sorrow  or  pain 
that  is  the  opposite  of  this  we  will  designate  slcame 
{g)udor) — understanding  thereby  the  pleasure  or  pain 
which  arises  Avhen  a man  believes  that  he  is  praised  or 
blamed  for  his  actions.  Otherwise,  I designate  the 
joy  or  pleasure  that  is  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  an 
external  cause  self-satisfaction  or  contentment  {ac- 
quiescentia  in  se  ipso) ; the  sorrow  or  pain  that  is  the 
opposite  of  this  I call  self -regret  or  dissatisfaction 
{imnitentia).  Further,  as  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  17, 
Part  II.)  the  joy  or  x)leasure  with  which  any  one 
imagines  he  affects  another  may  be  only  in  his  own 
imagination,  and  as  (by  Prop.  25)  every  one  may  en- 
deavor to  imagine  of  himself  whatever  he  fancies  as  a 
cause  of  joy  or  pleasure,’ it  may  therefore  easily  hap- 
pen that  a rain- glorious  {glorioso)  person  becomes 
jyroud  or  arrogant  {superhia)  and  imagines  that  he  is 
agreeable  to  everybody,  when  in  fact  he  is  disagree- 
able to  all. 


PAET  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  159 


PKOP.  XXXI. — If  we  imagine  tliat  a certain 
person  loves,  desires,  or  hates  an  object 
which  we  ourselves  love,  desire,  or  hate, 
we  Av  ill  then  Ioa  e,  desire,  or  hate  it  more 
earnestly  or  constantly  than  Ave  did  before. 
But  if  Ave  imagine  that  person  feels  aAxrsion 
for  an  object  that  Ave  Ioa  e,  or,  on  the  con- 
trary, that  he  loA^es  Avhat  Ave  dislike,  then 
Avill  Ave  siitfer  tliictiiation  of  mind  in  respect 
of  him. 

Deaionstr. — Merely  because  A\^e  imagine  that  some 
one  loves  this  or  that  thing,  AA’e  are  ourselves  dis230sed 
to  loA^e  it  also  (by  Proj).  27).  But  let  ns  snpx)ose  that 
Avithont  this  AA^e  loved  that  same  thing.  There  is  then 
added  a neAA^  cause  of  love  by  aaIucIi  our  loA^e  is  fos- 
tered, so  that  AA^e  then  loA^e  more  constantly  the  thing 
Ave  loved  before.  Again,  from  merely  imagining  some 
one  to  have  an  aversion  for  a certain  thing,  Ave  Avill 
ourselves  feel  an  aA^ersion  for  it  (by  same  Proii.).  Bat 
if  it  be  su2)]30sed  that  we  at  the  same  time  love  this 
thing,  Ave  shall  then  have  both  love  and  hate  for  it  at 
the  same  time,  or  {;pide  Schol.  to  Prop.  17)  AA^e  shall 
suffer  ffuctnation  or  vacillation  of  mind.  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — From  this  and  from  Prop.  28  it  folloAA^s 
that  every  one  endeavors,  as  far  as  iiossible,  to  have 
others  love  Avhat  lie  loves  himself,  and  to  hate  AAhat 
he  hates  ; — AAdience  the  poet  says  : 

“ Speremus  pariter,  pariter  metuamus  amantes  ; 

Ferreus  est,  si  quls,  quod  sinit  alter,  amat.” 

* Alike,  the  hope  and  fear  that  lovers  feel  ; 

Who  loves  what  others  leave,  is  made  of  steel. — Tr. 

— Ovidii  Amor.  L,  11. , Eleg.  XIX.,  v.  4,  5. 


IGO 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


SciiOL. — This  effort  that  we  make  to  have  every  one 
agree  witli  us  in  our  feelings  of  love  or  hate  is  really 
amhition  {amhitio)  (tide  Schol.  to  Prop.  29).  And 
hence  we  see  why  it  is  that  almost  every  one  naturally 
desires  to  have  others  live  according  to  his  fancy  ; but 
if  all  alike  desired  this,  f^ach  would  be  in  the  others 
way,  and  whilst  all  wished  to  be  loved  and  praised  by 
all,  they  Avould  all  mutually  hate  each  other. 

PROP.  XXXII. — If  we  imagine  that  another 
possesses  and  enjoys  a certain  thing  wliicli 
one  alone  can  x>ossess,  we  will  make  an 
effort  to  deprive  him  of  that  thing. 

Demoxstk. — Merely  because  we  imagine  another 
enjoying  a certain  thing,  we  forthwith  love  and  desire 
to  enjoy  that  thing  (by  Prop.  27  and  its  Coroll.  I.). 
But  (by  hypothesis)  we  imagine  to  ourselves,  as  an 
obstacle  to  this  pleasure,  the  fact  that  another  enjoys 
it.  Therefore  (by  Prop.  28)  do  we  make  an  effort  to 
deprive  him  of  it.  Q.  E.  n. 

SciiOL. — We  see,  by  what  precedes,  that  human 
nature  is  so  constituted  that  he  who  is  unfortunate  is 
for  the  most  part  x>itied,  and  he  who  is  fortunate  is 
generally  envied;  and  (by  preceding  Proi3.)  that  our 
dislike  or  hate  for  another  is  the  greater  the  more  we 
love  and  desire  the  thing  of  which  we  imagine  him  to 
be  possessed.  We  see,  further,  that  it  is  from  the 
same  property  of  human  nature  which  makes  men 
comx)assionate  or  pitiful,  that  they  are  also  made  en- 
vious and  ambitious.  Further,  if  we  consult  experi- 
ence we  will  find  that  it  teaches  all  this,  most  esi^eci- 
ally  when  the  earlier  years  of  our  lives  are  considered. 
For  children,  Avhose  bodies  are,  as  it  were,  in  a contin- 
ual state  of  equilibrium,  are  wont  to  laugh  or  cry 


PAET  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OE  PASSIOXS.  161 


merely  because  they  see  otliers  laugh  or  cry,  and 
what  they  see  others  do  they  forthwith  desire  to  imi- 
tate ; and,  further,  whatever  they  imagine  gives  de- 
light to  others,  they  covet  for  themselves;  so  true  it 
is,  as  we  have  said,  that  the  images  of  things  an) 
affections  or  modes  of  the  human  bod}^,  which,  influ- 
enced by  external  causes,  is  disposed  to  act  in  this 
or  that  manner. 

PROP.  XXXIII. — IVlieii  we  love  an  object 
Avliicli  is  like  unto  ourselves,  we  endeavory 
as  inucli  as  possible,  to  have  it  love  ns  in 
return . 

\ 

Demoxste. — AVe  endeavor,  as  far  as  jiossible,  to 
imagine  above  all  others  the  object  that  we  love  (by 
Prop.  12).  If  therefore  that  object  is  like  unto  our- 
selves, we  endeavor  above  all  to  cause  it  joy  (by  Prop. 
29) ; in  other  words,  we  endeavor,  as,  far  as  possible, 
to  have  the  object  we  love  affected  pleasurably  in 
connection  with  the  idea  of  ourselves  as  cause  ; that 
is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  131,  to  have  it  love  us  in  re- 
turn. Q.  E.  n. 

PROP.  XXXI Y. — The  greater  we  imagine  to  be 
the  affection  for  us  in  the  object  we  love, 
the  more  will  we  boast  or  glorify  ourselves. 

Deuoxste. — AA"e  strive,  as  much  as  we  can  (by  jire- 
ceding  Prop.),  to  have  the  object  we  love  love  us  in 
return  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  13),  to  have 
the  loved  object  pleasurably  affected  in  concomitance 
with  the  idea  of  ourselves.  Consequently  the  greater 
the  pleasure  which  we  imagine  the  loved  object  to  be 
affected  with  towards  us,  the  more  is  our  endeavor  to 
11 


1G2 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


gain  its  love  favored  or  strengthened  ; that  is  (by 
Pro]).  11  and  its  Schol.),  the  greater  is  the  pleasure 
we  experience.  But  when  we  rejoice  because  we  have 
affected  one  like  nnto  ourselves  pleasurably,  then  do 
we  contemplate  ourselves  with  pleasure  or  satisfaction 
(by  Proi^.  30).  So  that  the  greater  we  imagine  to  be 
the  passion  with  Avhich  a loved  object  is  affected 
towards  ns,  the  greater  will  lie  the  pleasure  with 
which  we  will  regard  ourselves ; that  is  to  say  (by 
Schol.  to  Prop.  30),  the  more  will  we  boast  or  glorify 
ourselves,  q.  e.  d. 


PEOP.  XXXV. — Whoever  imagines  that  the  ob- 
ject he  loves  has  united  itself  to  another  by 
a tie  of  friendship  equal  to,  or  stronger  than 
tliat  which  until  then  had  bound  it  wholly 
to  himself,  will  experience  hate  for  the  ob- 
ject he  before  loved,  and  envy  for  his  rival. 

Bemoxstk. — The  greater  the  love  with  which  we 
imagine  the  loved  object  to  be  affected  towards  us, 
the  more  do  we  glorify  ourselves  (by  preceding  Prop.) ; 
that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Proj).  30),  the  more  do  we  re- 
joice ; consequently  (by  Prop.  28)  we  endeavor,  as  far 
as  we  are  able,  to  imagine  that  the  tie  which  binds 
the  loved  object  to  us  is  the  closest  and  most  intimate 
qiossible  ; and  this  endeavor  or  desire  is  stimulated  if 
we  imagine  that  another  exiieriences  a like  desire  for 
that  object  (by  Proji.  31).  But  this  endeavor  or  de- 
sire is  supiiosed  to  be  restrained  when  the  image  of 
the  loved  object  is  accompanied  by  the  image  of  a 
rival.  Therefore  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  we  are  sor- 
rowfully affected  concomitant  with  the  idea  of  the 


PAET  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OK  PAS^^IOXS.  168 


loved  object,  as  cause,  and  at  tlie  same  time  hy  the 
image  of  the  rival ; in  other  words  (by  SchoL  to  Prop. 
18),  we  will  experience  hate  for  the  object  loved  and 
at  the  same  time  for  onr  rival  (by  CorolL  to  Prop.  15), 
of  whom,  further,  we  are  envious  because  he  is  made 
happy  by  the  object  we  love  (b}^  Prop.  23).  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — This  hate  towards  tlie  object  loved  joined 
with  envy  is  culled  Jealoics?/  {zelotypia),  which  is  there- 
fore nothing  bnt  the  hnctuation  of  mind  arising  from 
love  and  hate  combined,  accompanied  by  the  idea  of 
the  rival  whom  we  envy.  This  hate  for  the  object 
loved  will,  besides,  be  great  proportionally  to  the 
joy  wherewith  the  jealous  person  was  wont  to  be 
affected  by  the  reciprocated  love  of  the  object  of  his 
love  ; and,  also,  proportionally  to  the  affection  with 
which  he  may  formerly  have  been  affected  towards 
him  whom  he  now  joins  in  his  imagination  with  the 
object  of  his  love.  If  he  had  hated  this  rival,  he 
would  for  that  reason  alone  hate  or  dislike  the 

object  of  his  love  (by  Prop.  2-1),  because  he  im- 
agines that  what  he  himself  liates  is  pleasurably 

affected  ; and  also  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  15)  for  the 

reason  that  he  joins  in  his  thought  the  image  of 
the  object  loved  with  the  image  of  liini  whom  he 
hates.  This  occurs  very  frequently  in  love  affairs 
towards  women.  For  he  who  imagines  that  the  woman 
he  loves  gives  herself  np  to  another,  will  not  only  l)e 
grieved  because  his  own  desires  are  interfered  with, 
bnt  also  because  he  joins  in  his  thought  the  image  of 
the  object  loved  with  the  sexual  pleasures  of  his  rival 
for  whom  he  has  aversion.  To  which  it  may  be  fur- 
ther added,  that  the  jealous  lover  who  is  not  received 
by  the  object  of  his  love  with  the  same  affection  as 
before,  finds  in  this  another  source  of  grief,  as  1 shall 
soon  show. 


JG4 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


1*K01\  XXXYJ. — He  who  recalls  to  iiiiiul  an 
object  in  Avliich  lie  once  took  deliglit,  de- 
sires to  enjoy  it  again  and  under  the  same 
circumstances  as  when  lie  was  tirst  de- 
lighted with  it. 

Demoxsth. — Whatever  a man  has  seen  simulta- 
neously with  an  object  that  delighted  him,  becomes 
accidentally  a cause  of  joy  to  him  (liy  Proji.  lo),  and 
so  (by  Prop.  28)  he  will  desire  to  possess  it  along  with 
the  object  that  delighted  him  ; in  other  words,  he  will 
desire  to  possess  that  object  with  all  of  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  was  first  delighted  with  it. 
0.  E.  n. 

CoKOLL. — If  therefore  the  lover  iierceives  the  ab- 
sence of  any  of  these  circumstances,  lie  is  grieved. 

Dehoxste. — For  in  so  far  as  any  circumstance  is 
wanting,  to  that  extent  is  something  imagined  which 
excludes  the  existence  of  what  delighted  him  ; and  as 
through  love  he  desires  that  thing  or  that  circum- 
stance (by  preceding  Prop.),  therefore  (bj^  Proj).  19) 
so  long  as  he  imagines  that  it  is  wanting,  he  is  grieved. 

(^  E.  D- 

SciiOL.— This  sorrow  or  grief,  in  so  far  as  it  relates 
to  the  absence  of  a thing  we  love,  is  called  longing 
{desiderium). 

I^KOP.  XXXYII. — The  desire  which  arises 
from  joy  or  sorrow,  from  love  or  hate,  is 
great  proportionally  to  the  greatness  of  the 
passion  that  inspires  it. 

Demoxste. — Sorrow  diminishes  or  restrains  man's 
power  of  action  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  ; that  is  to  say 
(by  Prop.  7),  the  effort  by  which  man  endeavors  to 


PAirr  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OK  PASSIOXS.  165 


persevere  in  liis  state  of  being  is  diminished  or  re- 
strained ; and  so  (by  Prop.  5)  sorrow  is  opposed  to  this 
effort ; and  hence  whatever  effort  a man  affected  with 
sorroAv  makes,  is  made  to  free  himself  of  this  sorrow. 
Bnt  (by  Def.  of  Soitoav)  the  greater  the  sorrow,  the 
greater,  on  the  part  of  man,  must  necessarily  be  his 
power  of  action  to  oppose  it.  Therefore  the  greater 
the  sorrow,  the  greater  must  be  the  xiOAver  of  action 
by  Avhich  man  endeavors  to  free  himself  of  this  passion  ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  9),  the  greater  must 
be  the  axipetite  or  desire  Avith  Avhich  he  endeavors  to 
dispel  his  sorrow.  Again,  inasmuch  as  joy  (by  Schol, 
to  Proxi.  11)  increases  or  faAmrs  mair  s poAver  of  action, 
it  is  easily  demonstrated  in  the  same  AA^ay  tliat  a man 
affected  Avitli  joy  has  no  other  desire  bnt  to  preserve 
his  state  of  being,  and  this  Avith  a desire  so  much  the 
greater  as  the  joy  that  animates  him  is  greater.  Lastly, 
as  hate  and  love  are  themselves  affections  of  the  pas- 
sions of  sorroAvand  joy,  it  folloAvs  in  like  manner  that 
the  effort,  ax)petite,  or  desire  Avhich  arises  from  hate 
or  love  Avill  be  great  xiroiiortionallj^as  the  hate  or  love 
is  great,  q.  e.  n. 

PROP.  XXXYIIT. — He  avIio  begins  to  feel  hate 
for  an  object  loved,  and  has  his  love  for  it 
at  length  coinxiletely  extinguished,  for 
that  reason  feel  a greater  hate  for  it  than  if 
lie  had  neA^er  Ioa  ed  it  at  all,  and  the  more  he 
loAed  it  before  the  gi'eater  Avill  be  his  hate 
for  it. 

Deaioxstr. — For  he  Avho  begins  to  hate  an  object 
AAdiich  he  before  loved,  has  more  apjietites  or  desires 
defeated  than  if  he  had  never  loved  it.  For  love  is  a 
(by  Schol.  to  Prop.  13)  AAiiich  man,  so  far  as  he  is 


1G6 


SPINOZA  \S  ETHICS. 


able,  endeavors  to  preserve  (by  Prop.  28) ; and  this 
lie  does  by  contemplating  the  loved  object  as  present 
with  him,  and  striving  to  imagine  it  as  joyful  as  pos- 
sible (by  Prop.  21) ; and  this  effort  (by  preceding 
Proj).),  as  well  as  the  effort  to  have  the  object  he 
loves  love  him  in  return,  is  so  much  the  gTeater  in 
proportion  as  his  love  itself  is  great  {tide  Prop.  83). 
But  all  these  efforts  are  rejiressed  by  hate  of  the  ob- 
ject loved  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  13,  and  by  Prop.  23) ; 
wherefore  the  lover  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11),  for  this 
reason,  becomes  affected  with  grief  ; and  this  will  be 
the  greater  in  proportion  as  his  love  was  great ; that 
is  to  say,  besides  the  grief  which  was  the  first  cause 
of  hate  for  the  object  loved,  there  have  arisen  others 
(connected  with  the  love  which  the  object  had  inspired  ; 
and  consequently  the  lover  contemplates  the  object 
loved  with  a greater  affection  of  grief ; that  is  (by 
Schol.  to  Prop.  13),  his  love  for  it  will  be  followed  by 
greater  hate  than  if  he  had  never  loved  it ; and  the 
greater  his  love  has  been,  the  greater  will  be  his  hate. 

(^  E.  D. 

PROP.  XXXIX. — He  ^vho  hates  another  ^vill 
be  disposed  to  do  him  evil,  unless  he  fears 
that  greater  evil  will  come  to  himself  by 
doing  it;  and  on  the  contrary,  he  who 
lores  another  will  by  the  same  law  eii- 
dearor  to  do  him  good. 

pEMONSTii. — To  hate  another  is  (by  SchoL  to  Prop. 
13)  to  imagine  him  as  a cause  of  sorrow  ; consequently 
(by  Prop.  28)  he  who  hates  another  will  endeavor  to 
put  him  aside  or  destroy  him.  But  if  he  fears  some 
greater  sorrow  or  (which  is  the  same  thing)  some 


PAllT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OH  PASSIOXS.  167 


greater  evil  for  himself,  and  believes  that  he  can  avoid 
it  by  abstaining  from  doing  the  evil  he  had  meditated, 
he  will  desire  (by  same  Prop.  28)  to  abstain  from  do- 
ing it ; and  this  (by  Prop.  37)  by  a greater  effort  than 
that  he  would  make  to  do  the  evil,  so  that  this  effort 
would  prevail  over  the  other — which  is  wliat  we 
wished  to  demonstrate.  The  second  part  of  the 
demonstration  iiroceeds  after  the  same  manner. 
"Wherefore,  he  who  hates  another,  etc.  q.  e.  b. 

SciiOL. — By  good  I here  nnderstand  eveiy  kind  of 
jo}^  and  whatever  conduces  to  it,  especially  whatever 
wonid  satisfy  any  desire,  whatsoever  its  nature  ; by 
eGil  I nnderstand  every  kind  of  soitoav,  and  especially 
whatever  frustrates  a desire.  For  I have  already 
shown  (in  Schol.  to  Prop.  9)  that  we  do  not  desire  a 
thing  because  we  judge  it  to  be  good,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, we  call  that  good  Avhich  we  desire  ; and  con- 
sequently Ave  call  that  evil  to  Avhich  Ave  are  aA^erse. 
Wherefore  it  happens  that  every  one  judges  accord- 
ing to  his  OAvn  affections  or  xiassions  AAdiat  is  good, 
Avhat  evil,  AAdiat  is  better,  Avhat  Avorse,  and,  lastly, 
Avliat  is  best,  AAdiat,  Avorst.  Thus  the  aAmricious  man 
judges  that  xilenty  of  money  is  the  greatest  good,  and 
the  lack  of  it  the  greatest  eAul.  The  ambitions  man 
thinks  there  is  nothing  equal  to  the  glory  he  desires, 
and,  on  the  contraiy,  nothing  so  much  to  be  dreaded 
as  disgrace  and  defeat.  To  the  envious,  again,  there 
is  nothing  more  pleasant  than  the  misfortune  of 
another,  and  nothing  more  disagreeable  than  his  jiros- 
perity.  And  thus  it  is  that  every  one  according  to 
his  OAAm  passions  or  desires  judges  a thing  to  be  good 
or  evil,  useful  or  useless.  But  the  affection  or  xiassion 
which  so  discloses  a man  that  he  does  not  desire  AAdiat 
he  Avants,  or  AAmnt  AAdiat  he  desires,  is  called  dread 
(tiruor)^  AAdiich,  consequently,  is  nothing  else  than 


1G8 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


fear  (jnetas)  intluencing  a man  to  avoid  wliat  lie 
deems  a future  evil  by  submitting  to  a minor  present 
one  (vide  Prop.  28).  But  if  the  evil  he  dreads  be 
sliaine^  then  is  tlie  dread  called  haslfulness  or  mo- 
desty (verecnndia).  Finally,  if  the  desire  to  avoid  a 
coniiug  evil  is  restrained  by  the  fear  of  some  other 
evil,  so  that  we  know  not  truly  which  to  choose,  then 
is  fear  called  consternation  (eonsternatio),  estiecially 
if  either  of  the  evils  which  is  dreaded  be  one  of  the 
greatest  known. 

PIlOl^.  XL. — He  Avlio  imagines  that  lie  is  hated 
l)y  another,  but  is  not  conscious  of  having 
given  any  cause  for  hate,  will  in  return 
hate  that  other. 

Demoxstr. — He  who  imagines  another  to  be  af- 
fected with  hate,  will  himself  also  be  affected  with 
hate  (by  Prop.  27) ; that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  13), 
he  experiences  sorrow  accompanied  with  the  idea  of 
an  external  cause.  But  he  (by  hypothesis)  imagines 
no  cause  for  this  sorrow  except  the  person  who  hates 
him.  Therefore,  because  he  imagines  that  he  is  hated 
by  another  he  experiences  sorroAv  accompanied  with 
the  idea  of  the  person  who  hates  him  ; in  other  words 
(by  the  same  SchoL),  he  will  hate  because  he  is  hated. 
■Q.  E.  n. 

Schol.  1. — But  if  he  imagines  that  he  has  given  a 
Just  cause  for  hate,  then  (by  Prop.  30  and  its  Schol.) 
■will  he  be  affected  with  shame.  This  however  (by 
Prop.  25)  rarely  happens.  Besides,  this  reciproca- 
tion of  hate  may  also  arise  from  the  hatred  that  has 
followed  an  effort  to  injure  him  who  is  hated  (by 
Prop.  39).  He,  therefore,  who  imagines  that  he  is 
hated  by  another  will  imagine  that  other  to  be  the 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  169 


cause  of  evil  or  sorrow  to  himself,  and  so  will  be 
affected  by  sorrow  or  fear  accompanied  with  the  idea 
of  the  person  who  hates  him  as  its  cause, — that  is,  lie 
will  be  affected  with  hate  in  return,  as  above. 

Coroll.  1. — Pie  who  imagines  that  the  object  of  liis 
love  dislikes  or  hates  him  will  be  agitated  by  conflicl- 
ing  emotions  of  love  and  hate, at  the  same  time.  For 
in  so  far  as  he  imagines  that  the  loved  person  hates 
him,  he  is  moved  to  hate  that  person  in  return  (by 
preceding  Prop.).  But  (by  hypothesis)  he  loves  that 
person  nevertheless.  Therefore  will  he  be  moved  by 
conflicting  emotions  of  love  and  hate  at  the  same 
time. 

Coroll.  2. — He  who  imagines  that  another  who  has 
never  before  affected  him,  or  with  whom  he  has  had 
no  relations,  has  thiongh  hatred  done  him  an  injury, 
Avill  forthwith  be  disposed  to  retaliate  by  doing  that 
other  an  injury. 

Hemoxstr. — He  who  imagines  that  a certain  person 
hates  him,  will  be  disposed  to  hate  that  person  in 
return  (by  preceding  Prop.),  and  (by  Prop.  26)  to 
threaten  him  with  and  to  strive  to  bring  upon  him 
whatever  may  cause  him  sorrow  (by  Prop.  39).  But 
(by  hyjDothesis)  the  first  thing  he  imagines  is  the  evil 
• that  has  been  done  to  himself ; therefore  will  he 
forthwith  seek  to  do  him  some  evil  in  return,  q.  e.  T). 

SciroL.  2. — The  effort  we  make  to  do  evil  to  one 
Avhom  we  hate  is  cadled  anger  {Ira) ; and  that  which 
we  make  to  pay  back  an  evil  done  to  ourselves  is  en- 
titled rerenge  (vindlcta). 


PHOP.  XLI. — He  wlio  imagines  that  he  is 
loved  by  another,  but  does  not  know  why 
he  is  loved  (which,  by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  15 


170 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


and  bv  Prop.  16,  may  very  well  happen), 
Avill  loA  e tliat  other  in  return. 

Demoxstr. — This  proposition  is  demonstrated  in 
tlie  same  manner  as  the  preceding  Pi'oposition,  the 
Scholium  to  wliicli  may  also  be  referred  to. 

ScnoL.  1. — Bnt  if  he  believes  that  he  has  given  just 
cause  for  the  love  shchvn  him,  he  will  glorify  or  be 
Avell  pleased  with  himself  (by  Prop.  30  and  its  SclioL). 
And  this  happens  very  frequently  (by  Prop.  2o) ; bnt 
the  contrary  of  this,  as  haA^e  said,  also  occurs  if  he 
imagines  that  he  is  hated  by  another  {vide  Schol.  to 
preceding  Prop.).  Xoaa^,  this  reciprocation  of  love, 
and  consequently  (by  Prop.  39)  the  effort  Avhicli  results 
from  it  to  do  good  to  him  aaTio  loves  ns  and  Avonld  do 
us  a kindness,  is  called  gratitude  {gratia  seu  grati- 
tudo).  It  Avonld  seem,  lioAA^ever,  that  men  are  much 
more  ready  to  reAxnge  themselves  than  the}^  are  to 
pay  back  benefits. 

Coroll. — He  aa^io  imagines  that  he  is  loA^ed  by  one 
Avhom  he  hates  aaTII  suffer  conflicting  emotions  of  loA^e 
and  hate  at  the  same  time.  This  is  demonstrated  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  first  Corollary  to  the  preced- 
ing Proposition. 

SciiOL.  2.— If  hate  prevails  he  will  seek  to  do  evil 
to  the  person  by  AAdiom  he  is  loved  ; this  affection  or 
])assion  is  called  cruelty  {crudelitas)^ — especially  if 
he  AAdio  loves  is  not  believed  to  haA'^e  given  any  of  the 
usual  causes  of  hatred. 

PKOP.  XLII. — He  aaTio  lias  done  a serA  ice  to 
anotlier,  AAdietlier  tliroiigb  Ioa  e or  the  bope 
of  fame  or  reputation  {gloria)^  aaHI  be 
gricA  ed  if  be  sees  that  bis  kindness  is  re- 
ceiA  ed  in  an  ungrateful  spirit. 


PAPwT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  171 


Demonstr. — He  ivlio  loves  one  of  liis  own  kind  en- 
deavors, as  nincli  as  lie  can,  to  be  loved  in  return  (by 
Prop.  83).  He  therefore  who  through  love  confers  a 
benefit  on  another  does  it  through  the  desire  he  feels 
to  be  loved  in  return  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Pro]).  34y 
from  hope  of  fame  or  from  the  pleasure  that  will 
ensue  to  him  from  the  act  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  30) ; 
therefore  (by  Prop.  12)  will  he  endeavor,  as  much  as  he 
can,  to  imagine  or  contemplate  this  cause  of  fame  as 
present  or  actually  existing.  But  (by  hypothesis)  he 
may  imagine  something  else  which  excludes  the  ex- 
istence of  this  cause ; therefore  and  on  this  account 
Avill  he  be  grieved  (by  Pro}!.  19). 

PEOP.  XLIII. — Hate  is  increased  when  it  is 
mutual,  and,  on  the  contrary,  it  may  be 
effaced  by  love. 

Hemoxstr. — He  who  imagines  that  the  person  he 
hates  is  affected  with  hate  towards  himself,  conceives 
thereby  a new  hate  (by  Prop.  40),  the  first  (by 
hypothesis)  continuing  to  subsist.  But  if,  on  the 
contrary,  he  imagines  the  object  of  his  hate  to  be 
affected  with  love  towards  him,  then  in  so  far  as  he 
imagines  this  he  will  contemplate  himself  with  joy  or 
satisfaction  (by  Prop.  30),  and  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  29), 
will  he  endeavor  to  please  the  person  who  returns  his 
hate  with  love  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  40),  in  so  far 
as  he  can  he  will  endeavor  not  to  hate  him  and  not  to 
cause  him  any  sorrow  ; and  this  endeavor  (by  Prop. 
37)  will  be  greater  or  less  in  iiroportion  to  the  passion 
from  which  it  jiroceeds  ; and  so  if  this  effort  is  greater 
than  the  effort  that  arises  from  hate  and  which  is 
intended  to  cause  sorrow  to  the  person  hated,  it  will 
prevail  over  it  and  efface  the  hatred  from  the  soul. 
Q.  E.  D. 


172 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  XLIV. — Hate  tliat  is  completely  vaii- 
qiiislied  by  loye,  is  cliaiiged  into  loye  ; 
and  tliis  loye  is  often  greater  than  if  it  bad 
not  been  preceded  by  hate. 

Pemonstp. — The  demonstration  proceeds  in  the 
same  manner  as  that  of  Prop.  38.  For  he  who 
liegins  to  love  tlie  object  he  had  hated  or  which  he 
liad  regarded  only  with  sorrow  or  displeasure,  is  re- 
joiced,— simply  because  he  now  loves  it ; and  to  tlie 
joy  wliich  love  involves  (vide  Def.  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  13) 
there  is  also  added  that  which  arises  from  the  effort 
to  dispel  the  sorrow  which  hate  involves  (as  shown  i]i 
Prop.  37)  ; and,  in  short,  this  effort  is  favored  and 
strengthened  by  association  with  the  idea  of  the  per- 
son who  was  hated  but  who  is  now  the  cause  of  joy. 

SciioL. — Although  this  be  as  just  stated,  still  no  one 
will  strive  to  hate  or  to  affect  anything  with  sorrow 
with  the  view  of  himself  enjoying  a greater  pleasure  ; 
in  other  words,  no  one  will  desire  to  be  injured  in 
hope  of  being  indemnified  for  it,  nor  to  fall  sick  i]i 
hope  of  being  cured.  For  every  one  always  strives  as 
far  as  possible  to  preserve  his  state  of  being  and  keep 
away  sorrow.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  were  possi- 
ble to  conceive  that  a man  could  desire  to  hate 
another  in  order  to  love  him  more  perfectly  tliereafter, 
then  should  he  always  desire  to  hate  him  ; for  the 
greater  the  hate  the  greater  would  be  the  love  ; and 
therefore  should  he  always  desire  that  the  hate  should 
go  on  continually  increasing.  And  if  this  be  so,  tlien 
should  a man  desire  to  be  more  and  more  sick  in 
view  of  the  greater  pleasure  to  be  enjoyed  by  his 
restoration  to  health,  and  consequently  he  should 
endeavor  to  be  always  sick,  which  (by  Prop.  6)  is 
absurd. 


PAP.T  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  173 


PROP.  XLY. — He  avIio  imagines  one  like  him- 
self to  be  affeeted  with  hate  for  another 
like  himself  whom  he  loves,  Avill  hate  the 
hater. 

Demonstr. — For  the  object  that  is  loved  hates  him 
who  hates  it  (by  Prop.  40)  ; and,  in  the  same  way,  the 
lover  who  imagines  any  one  to  hate  the  object  he 
loves,  may  thereby  imagine  the  object  of  his  love  to 
be  affected  with  hate,  that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  18), 
with  sorrow  ; and  consequently  (by  Prop.  21)  he  will 
himself  experience  grief,  and  this  in  concomitance  with 
the  idea  of  him  who  hates  the  beloved  object  as  being 
the  cause  of  his  grief ; that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  18j, 
he  will  hate  the  hater,  q.  e.  i). 

PROP.  XLYI. — If  Ave  have  been  affected  Avitb 
joy  or  sorroAv  by  a person  of  another  class 
or  nation-  tlian  onr  OAvn,  and  if  the  idea  of 
that  person  under  the  common  name  of  liis 
class  or  nation  accompanies  oiir  joy  or  sor- 
roAV  as  being  the  cause  that  produced  it,  avc 
Avill  experience  Ioa  e or  hate  not  only  for 
that  individual  person,  but  also  for  the 
Avliole  of  his  class  or  nation. 

Deaioxstr. — The  demonstration  of  this  Proymsition 
is  evident  from  Prop.  IG. 

PROP.  XLYII. — The  joA  Avhich  arises  Avhen  avc 
imagine  that  the  object  of  oiir  liate  is  de- 
stroyed or  in  some  AA  iiy  injured,  does  not 
arise  Avithout  a feeling  of  sorroAV  in  the 
mind. 


174 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


DE:\roNSTR. — This  is  evident  from  Prop.  27.  For  in 
so  far  as  we  imagine  a thing  that  resembles  ourselves 
to  be  in  sorrow,  so  far  do  we  ourselves  feel  sorrow. 

ScnoL. — This  Proposition  is  also  demonstrated  in 
the  Coroll,  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.  For  as  often  as  we 
remember  a thing,  although  it  may  not  then  actually 
exist,  3’et  do  we  contemplate  it  as  present,  and  are 
cor2:)oreally  affected  by  it  in  the  same  Avay  as  if  it  were 
])resent.  Wherefore,  so  far  as  a man  remembers  dis- 
tinctly a thing  that  he  hates,  so  far  is  he  disiiosed  or 
intliienced  to  regard  it  sorrowfully  ; which  disposi- 
tion— the  image  of  the  thing  continuing  to  subsist — 
is  controlled  but  not  destroyed  by  the  recollection  of 
other  things  which  obscure  or  hide  the  existence  of 
the  image  in  question.  Man,  therefore,  only  rejoices 
in  so  far  as  this  determination  or  disposition  is  con- 
trolled ; and  hence  it  is  that  the  joy  which  arises  from 
an  injury  done  to  the  object  we  hate,  is  renewed  as 
often  as  that  object  is  remembered.  For,  as  we  have 
said,  whenever  the  image  of  the  object  hated  is  excited 
in  the  mind,  inasmuch  as  the  idea  of  its  existence  is 
involved,  it  disposes  man  to  contemplate  that  object 
with  the  same  hate  or  sorrow  with  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  regard  it  Avhen  it  really  existed  and  was 
present.  But  because  man  associates  with  the  image 
of  the  thing  he  hates  images  of  other  things  which 
obscure  or  hide  its  existence,  therefore  is  this  disposi- 
tion to  grieve  immediately  controlled,  and  man  re- 
joices anew  ; and  this  as  often  as  a like  occurrence  is 
repeated.  And  it  is  from  the  same  cause  that  men 
rejoice  as  often  as  they  recall  to  mind  past  evils,  and 
that  they  take  pleasure  in  relating  the  perils  from 
which  they  have  been  delivered.  For  when  any  jDar- 
ticular  danger  is  imagined  they  contemplate  it  just  as 
if  it  were  prospective,  and  are  thus  disposed  to  dread 


PART  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  175 


it ; but  tliis  disposition  is  controlled  again  by  the  idea 
ol*  deliverance  or  escape  Avliicli  they  associate  Avith 
2)ast  dangers  from  AAdiich  they  AA^ere  delivered,  and  so 
a sense  of  safety  being  restored  they  then  rejoice 
aneAv. 

PKOP.  XLYIII. — Loa  e and  bate  for  an  indi- 
vidual— say,  for  example,  toAAards  Peter — 
are  annulled  if  the  joy  Avliicli  the  former 
and  the  sorroAv  Avliieli  the  latter  iiiAmh  es 
are  joined  Avitli  the  idea  of  another  cansi^ 
than  Peter  ; and  each,  again,  Avill  so  tar 
be  diminished  as  Peter  is  imagined  not  to 
liaA'e  been  the  sole  cause  of  either. 

Demonstr. — This  is  evident  from  the  Definition  of 
LoA^e  and  Hate,  AAdiich  see  in  tlie  Schol.  to  Proji.  18. 
For  love  is  called  joy  and  hate  is  called  sorroAv  in  re- 
ference to  Peter,  from  this  alone,  namely, — because 
Peter  is  considered  to  be  the  cause  of  one  or  the 
other  of  these  affections  or  passions.  Therefore  the 
idea  of  Peter  as  cause  being  either  Avholly  or  partially 
removed,  the  affection  of  Avhich  Peter  AA^as  the  object 
A\dll  be  Avholly  or  partially  removed  also.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XLIX. — The  Ioac  or  hate  toAAxards  an 
object  Avliich  aa  e imagine  as  free  must  be 
greater  in  either  ease  and  for  a like  reason, 
than  it  Avoiild  be  for  an  object  imagined  as 
necessary. 

Deaionstr. — A thing  Avhich  aa^c  imagine  as  free 
must  (by  Def.  7,  Part  I.)  be  perceived  by  itself  inde- 
pendently of  other  things.  If,  therefore,  Ave  imagine 
a free  thing  to  be  the  cause  of  joy  or  soitoav  to  ns,  it 


170 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


is  on  this  ground  alone  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  13)  that 
we  love  or  hate  it,  and  this  (by  preceding  Prop.)  with 
the  highest  degree  of  love  or  hate  that  can  arise  from 
the  passions  named.  But  if  the  thing  which  is  the 
clause  of  the  affection  be  imagined  as  necessary,  then 
(by  same  Del  7,  Part  I.)  do  we  consider  that  it  is  not 
itself  the  sole  cause  of  the  affection  experienced,  but 
that  other  things  have  co-operated  with  it  as  cause  ; 
consequently  (by  preceding  Prop.)  the  love  or  hate 
v e feel  towards  it  will  be  less.  q.  e.  d. 

ScTioL. — Hence  it  follows  that  men,  because  they 
l)elieve  themselves  to  be  free,  feel  greater  love  or  hate 
for  one  another  than  for  any  other  things.  To  the 
above,  however,  is  to  be  added  the  imitation  or  coni- 
ninnication  of  affections  or  passions,  in  reference  to 
which  vide  Props.  27,  34,  40,  and  43. 

PKOP.  L. — Anything  may  by  accident  be  a 
cause  of  hope  or  of  fear. 

Demoxstu. — This  Proposition  is  demonstrated  in 
the  same  way  as  Prop,  lo,  which  see, — and  also  the 
Schol.  to  Prop.  18. 

ScnoL. — Things  that  are  accidentally  causes  of 
liope  or  fear  are  called  good  or  had  omens.  And  in  so 
far  as  these  omens  are  causes  of  hope  or  fear,  in  so 
far  are  they  causes  of  joy  or  sorrow  (by  the  Defs.  of 
hope  and  feai\  which  will  be  found  in  Schol.  2 to 
Prop.  18),  and  consequently  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  15) 
of  love  or  of  hate,  and  so  we  endeavor  (by  Prop.  28) 
either  to  use  them  as  means  to  attain  the  object  of 
our  hopes,  or  to  remove  them  as  obstacles  to  our 
wishes  and  causes  of  our  fears.  Besides,  it  follows 
from  Prop.  25  that  Ave  are  so  constituted  by  nature 
that  Ave  readily  believe  the  things  that  AA^e  hope  for 


PAirr  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  Oil  PASSIONS.  I'.? 


and  with  difficulty  give  credit  to  those  Ave  dread,  and 
also  that  aa’c  judge  more  or  less  correctly  in  regard  to 
these  things.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  superstitions 
which  Mveiywhere  distract  mankind  have  arisen. 

As  to  the  rest,  I do  not  think  it  Avorth  Avhile  to 
shoAv  here  the  fiuct nations  of  mind  AAdiich  arise  from 
hope  and  fear,  seeing  that  it  folloAvs  from  the  A^ery 
definition  of  these  passions  that  hope  is  never  Avitli- 
oiit  fear,  nor  fear  AAUthout  hope  (as  Avill  be  more  fully 
explained  in  the  proper  place) ; and  further,  that  Ave 
love  or  hate  anything  in  so  far  as  Ave  feel  hope  or  fear 
in  connection  AAUth  it ; — so  that  all  AA^e  have  noAv  said 
concerning  love  and  hate  eveiy  one  may  easily  apply 
to  hope  and  fear. 

I^EOP.  LI. — Different  ineii  may  be  differently 
affected  by  one  and  the  same  object ; and 
the  same  man  may  at  different  times  be 
differently  affected  by  the  same  object. 

Deaionstii. — The  human  body  (by  Post.  3,  Part  II.) 
is  affected  in  A^ery  many  AATiys  by  external  bodies. 
Tavo  men,  therefore,  may  be  differently  affected  at 
the  same  time,  and  (by  Ax.  1 after  Lem.  3,  Avhich  fol- 
loAvs  Prop.  13,  Part  II.)  they  may  also  be  differently 
affected  by  one  and  the  same  object.  Again  : (by  the 
same  Post.)  the  human  body  may  be  affected  some- 
times in  one  Avay  and  sometimes  in  another;  and  con- 
sequently (by  the  same  Ax.)  it  may  be  affected  b}^ 
the  same  object  in  a different  Avay  at  different  times. 

E.  T). 

SciioL. — AVe  S(‘e  therefore  Iioav  it  comes  to  pass 
that  Avhat  one  loves  another  hates,  and  Avhat  one 
fears  another  does  not  fear ; and  also  that  one  and 
the  same  man  now  loA'es  Avhat  he  had  before  hated,. 

12 


178 


spixoza's  ethics. 


and  now  bravely  dares  to  do  Avhat  he  had  fornn'rly 
feared  to  attempt,  ete.  Further,  as  every  one  Judges 
according  to  Ids  oAvn  affections  or  desires  what  is 
good,  Avhat  bad,  what  better,  Avhat  worse  {i)lde  Schol. 
to  Prop.  39),  it  follows  that  men  may  vary  in  their 
judgments  as  Avell  as  in  their  affections  and  henc(‘ 
it  happens  that  Avhen  Ave  compare  men  with  one  an- 
other and  Avith  ourselves,  Ave  distingnish  them  by  the 
difference  of  their  affections  alone,  and  AA’e  call  thest* 
bold,  those  timid,  and  others  Ave  designate  by  olher 
names.  For  example  : I call  him  intrepid  AAdio  de- 
spises an  eAnl  Avliich  I am  acenstomed  to  fear  ; and  if 
I notice,  farther,  that  his  desire  to  do  evil  to  Avhat  In^ 
hates  and  good  to  Avhat  he  loves  is  not  restrained  by 
the  fear  of  some  eAdl  Avhich,  ordinarily,  Avonld  re- 
strain myself,  I call  him  andacions.  Again,  he  Avho 
dreads  an  eAol  Avhicli  I am  acenstomed  to  brave,  Avill 
appear  to  me  timid;  and  if  1 notice,  fiirthei',  that  he 
is  restrained  in  his  desires  by  the  fear  of  an  evil 
Avhich  does  not  I'estrain  me,  I Avonld  say  that  he  is 
])asillanimons  ; and  so  on, — each  one,  like  myself, 
judging  of  others  according  to  his  oaaui  affections. 

In  short,  it  is  from  this  constitution  of  hnman  na- 
ture, and  this  variableness  of  man's  judgments,  that 
he  oftentimes  judges  of  things  solely  by  his  affec- 
tions; and  that  things  AAdiich  he  believes  conduce  to 
joy  or  sorrow,  and  Avhich  \u)  therefore  (by  Prop.  28) 
endeavors  to  ])romote  or  to  put  aAvay  from  himself, 
are  often  Avholly  imaginary.  Xot  to  S2)eak  here  of 
Avhat  has  l)een  shown  in  the  Second  Part  touching  the 
uncertainty  of  things, — it  is  easy  to  conceive  man  as 
b(ung  often  himself  the  cause  of  his  grieving  or  his 

" N.  B. — Tliat  this  may  ba  so,  although  the  human  soul  is  part  of  the 
Divine  Intelligence,  Ave  have  sliown  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II. 
Spinoza.) 


PAKT  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  Oil  PASSIOXS.  179 


rejoicing;  tliat  is  to  say,  tlie  sorrow  and  joy  lie  ex- 
periences are  associated  with  the  idea  of  himself  as 
cause.  And  hereby  we  can  easily  understand  ivliere- 
in  repentance  {poenitentla)  and  acquiescence  or  seJf- 
content  {acquiescentia)  consist.  Repentance  is  a sor- 
row or  grief,  and  self-content  is  a joy  or  satisfaction, 
in  each  case  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  one\s-self  as 
its  cause  ; and  these  passions  have  great  force  because 
men  believe  themselves  free  {ride  Prop.  49). 

PROP.  LIT. — All  object  whicdi  we  have  once 
seen  along  Avith  other  objects,  or  Avhich  we 
imagine  to  have  nothing  but  Avhat  is  com- 
mon to  many  objects,  avc  do  not  observe  so 
long  or  attentively  as  Ave  do  one  that  Ave 
imagine  has  something  that  is  peculiar  to 
itself. 

DeaioxstPv. — When  we  imagine  any  object  tliat  W(; 
have  once  seen  along  with  other  objects,  Ave  forthwith 
remember  those  others  (by  Prop.  18  and  its  SchoL, 
Part  II.),  and  so  from  the  contemplation  of  one  we 
fall  into  the  contemplation  of  the  others.  And  it  is 
the  same  with  an  object  wliicli  we  imagine  to  have 
nothing  that  is  not  common  to  many.  For  Ave  then 
suppose  that  AA^e  perceive  nothing  in  it  that  Ave  have 
not  before  observed  in  others.  But  if  Ave  suppose  that 
AA^e  perceive  in  a particular  object  something  Ave  have 
never  seen  before,  Ave  then  say  that  the  mind,  Avhilst 
contemxilating  that  object,  has  no  other  object  in 
it  that  can  make  it  ji^^ss  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  one  in  question  to  the  contemplation  of  anotlier 
or  others,  and  consequently  it  aauU  be  determined  to 
contemplate  that  object  exclusively.  Therefon^,  an 
object,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 


180 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


SciiOL. — This  affection  of  the  mind  or  soul,  viz.  : 
the  imagination  of  a particular  thing— in  so  far  as  it 
occupies  the  soul  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other 
image — is  called  astonislLinent  or  admiration  {admi- 
ratio) ; but  if  the  affection  is  excited  in  us  by  an 
object  which  we  fear,  it  is  then  called  alarm  {conster- 
natio\  because  astonishment  in  presence  of  an  evil 
holds  a man  in  such  a state  of  suspense  through  mere 
self-contemplation  that  he  is  incapable  of  thinking  of 
any  means  by  which  he  might  escape  the  evil  he 
fears.  But  if  the  object  of  our  admiration  be  the 
2)rudence  or  industry  of  a man,  or  anything  of  that 
sort,  then,  and  because  we  contemplate  him  as  far 
excelling  ourselves,  we  give  to  our  admiration  the 
name  of  respect  iveneratio).  Otherwise,  if  the  object 
of  our  astonishment  be  a man's  anger,  envy,  etc.,  we 
call  it  horror^  or  aversion  {Jiorror).  Further,  when 
we  admire  the  prudence,  industry,  etc.,  of  a man 
whom  we  love,  our  love  is  thereby  increased  (by 
Pro23.  12),  and  this  love  in  combination  with  admira- 
tion or  respect  we  call  reference  (dexotio).  And  in 
the  same  manner  we  can  also  conceive  hate,  hope, 
security,  and  other  affections  combined  with  aston- 
ishment or  admiration  ; so  that  a greater  number  of 
affections  could  be  deduced  from  these  combinations 
than  there  are  words  in  common  use  to  exjDress ; 
which  shows  that  the  names  of  affections  or  23assions 
have  been  formed  from  words  in  common  use  rather 
than  from  careful  study  or  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
affections  themselves. 

Admiration  is  opjiosed  to  contempt  (contemtus\  and 
most  generally  arises  from  this : that  we  see  some 
one  admire,  love,  fear,  etc.,  a certain  thing, — or  from 
this : that  a certain  thing  appearing  to  us  at  first 
sight  to  resemble  something  which  we  admire,  love, 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  181 


tear,  etc.,  we  are  Prop.  15  with  its  Coroll,  and 
Prop.  27)  determined  to  admire,  love,  fear,  etc.,  this 
same  thing.  Bat  if,  through  the  presence  of  that 
thing,  or  more  careful  survey  or  contemplation  of  it, 
we  iierceive  that  it  does  not  ])Ossess  anything  that  can 
excite  our  admiration,  love,  fear,  etc.,  then  is  the  soul 
determined  by  the  presence  of  the  thing  in  question 
to  think  ratlier  of  the  qualities  it  does  not  possess 
than  of  those  it  does.  The  contrary  of  this,  however, 
liappens  when,  with  the  object  present,  we  notice  par- 
ticularly that  it  has  the  qualities  which  we  had  con- 
ceived it  to  possess.  Moreover,  just  as  respect  {devo- 
tio)  proceeds  from  our  admiration  of  the  thing  w^^ 
love,  so  does  derision  [irrisid)  arise  from  the  contempt 
we  feel  for  an  object  we  hate  or  fear,  and  disdain 
{dedifjnatio)^  from  our  contenqit  of  folly  or  stupiditj", 
— just  as  reverence  arises  from  our  admiration  of  pru- 
dence or  wisdom.  And,  to  conclude,  we  can  conceive 
love,  hope,  glory,  and  other  affections  or  passions 
conjoined  with  contempt,  and  deduce  from  this  union 
still  other  affections  which  we  are  not  accustomed  to 
distinguish  by  separate  names. 

PROP.  LIII. — When  the  soul  contemplates  it- 
self and  its  power  of  action,  it  rejoices ; 
and  this  so  much  the  more  as  it  imagines 
itself  and  its  power  of  action  more  dis- 
tinctly. 

Demonstr. — Man  knows  himself  only  through  the 
affections  of  his  body  and  the  ideas  of  these  affections 
(by  Props.  19  and  23,  Part  II.).  When  the  soul  there- 
fore contemplates  itself,  it  is  supposed  to  pass  there- 
by to  a state  of  greater  perfection,  that  is  (by  Schol. 
to  Prop.  11),  it  is  supposed  to  be  joyfully  affected  ; 


,o  7- 


182 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


and  this  so  much  the  more  as  it  more  distinctly 
imagines  both  itself  and  its  power  of  action,  q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLE. — The  more  a man  imagines  himself  to  be 
])raisedby  others  the  more  is  this  joy  nourished  in  Ids 
sonl.  For  the  more  he  imagines  himself  to  be  praised 
hy  others  the  greater  he  imagines  the  joy  to  be  that 
others  experience  through  him,  and  this  supposed  joy 
is  associated  Avith  the  idea  of  himself  as  cause  (by 
Schol.  to  Prop.  29) ; consequently  (by  Prop.  27),  the 
greater  will  be  the  joy  with  which  he  is  himself 
affected,  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  himself,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  LIT. — The  soul  eiideaAors  to  imagine 
those  things  only  which  affirm  its  poAver 
of  action. 

DemoxstPv. — The  effort  or  power  of  the  sonl  is  the 
A'ery  essence  of  the  sonl  itself  (by  Prop.  7).  But  the 
essence  of  the  sonl  (as  is  evident)  affirms  that  only 
which  the  sonl  is,  and  is  able  to  do ; and  not  that 
which  it  is  not,  and  cannot  do.  Therefore  the  sonl 
endeavors  to  imagine  those  things  only  which  affirm 
its  power  of  action,  q.  e.  n. 

PROP.  LT. — AVhen  the  soul  imagines  its  own 
impotency,  it  is  grieA^ed  thereby. 

Demoxstu. — The  essence  of  the  sonl  affirms  that 
only  Avhich  the  sonl  is  and  can  do  ; in  other  words,  it 
is  of  the  nature  of  the  sonl  to  imagine  those  things 
only  Avhich  affirm  or  snppose  its  poAver  of  action  (by 
])receding  Prop.).  bVhen,  therefore,  AA^e  say  that  the 
sonl  in  contemplating  itself  imagines  its  OAvn  inca- 
])acity  to  act,  Ave  say  nothing  else  than  that  the  sonl 
Avhilst  it  endeavoi  s to  imagine  something  AAdiich  af- 


PAKT  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OH  PASSIONS.  183 


firms  its  poAver  of  action  feels  its  effort  restrained,  or 
(by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  11)  that  it  is  grieimd.  q.  e.  h. 

Co  POLL. — This  grief  is  still  further  increased  if  wp 
imagine  that  Ave  are  blamed  by  others, — AA'liich  is  d(^- 
nionstrated  in  the  same  AA'ay  as  the  Coroll,  to  Prop.  53. 

SciioL. — Snell  grief  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  onr 
oAAHi  imbecilit}"  is  called  TiUiniUty  (Ii  umiUtas) ; AAdiilst 
the  joy  that  arises  from  the  contemplation  of  onr- 
seh’es  is  called  self -lorn  or  self -content  {phllautla  tel 
acqulesceritla) . And  as  this  joy  is  rejirodnced  as 
often  as  man  contemplates  his  oaahi  Adrtnes  or  po\Axrs 
of  action,  it  therefore  happens  that  almost  eA^ery  one 
likes  to  speak  of  his  OAAm  actions  and  to  sIioaa'  off  his 
bodily  and  mental  poAA’ers ; and  on  this  account  men 
often  make  themselAms  disagreeable  to  one  another. 
For  the  same  reason,  also,  men  are  naturally  en- 
A’ioiis  of  one  another  {vide  Schols.  to  Props.  24  and 
32),  and  disposed  to  rejoice  at  the  incomj^etency  or 
infirmities  of  their  felloAA^s  ; and,  on  the  contrary,  to 
grieA^e  at  their  Adrtnes  or  poAAers.  For  as  often  as 
any  one  imagines  his  oaahi  (satisfactory)  actions,  so 
often  is  he  affected  AAdth  joy  (by  Prop.  53), — and  this 
so  much  the  greater  in  the  degree  that  the  actions 
express  more  of  perfection  and  are  more  distinctly 
imagined  ; that  is  (by  AAdiat  has  been  said  in  Schol.  1 
to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.),  the  more  he  is  able  to  distin- 
gnish  them  from  others  and  to  contemplate  them  as 
indiAddnal  things.  'AA'herefore  the  greatest  pleasure 
any  one  can  have  in  contemplating  himself  is  Avhen 
he  regards  himself  as  possessing  some  capacity  that 
is  denied  to  others.  Bat  if  AAdiat  one  affirms  of  him- 
self is  referred  to  the  general  idea  of  man  or  animals, 
the  pleasure  or  satisfaction  he  feels  Avill  be  much 
lessened  ; on  the  contrary,  he  AAdll  be  grieved  or  dis- 
satisfied, if,  in  comparing  his  oaaui  actions  Avith  those 


184 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


of  others,  he  imagines  his  own  to  be  inferior  ; anti  in 
tliat  case  (by  Prop.  28)  he  may  endeavor  to  overcome 
iiis  grief  or  discontent  by  interpreting  the  actions  of 
his  fellows  wrongfully,  or  by  embellishing  and  extol- 
ling his  own  as  much  as  possible.  It  appears,  there- 
fore, that  men  are  naturally  inclined  to  hatred  and 
envy,  and  this  tendency  is  often  strengthened  by 
education, — for  it  is  a habit  of  parents  to  excite  the 
virtues  or  powers  of  their  children  by  the  stimulus  of 
envy  and  distinction  alone.  But  to  this,  perchance, 
there  may  remain  an  objection,  viz. : — that  we  fre- 
(piently  admire  and  even  venerate  men  for  their 
virtues.  Therefore  to  remove  this  objection  I add 
the  following  Corollary. 

CoKOLL. — Xo  one  envies  the  virtues  of  another  un- 
less an  equal. 

Demonstk. — Envy  is  hatred  itself  {i)ide  Schol.  to 
Prop.  24)  ; in  other  words  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop.  13),  it 
is  a sorrow,  or  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  an  atfection  by 
which  man’s  power  of  action  or  effort  is  repressed. 
But  man  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  9)  makes  no  effoi  t and 
has  no  desire  that  does  not  result  from  his  own  na- 
ture. Therefore  no  one  will  desire  to  affirm  of  him- 
self any  power  of  action,  or  (which  is  the  same  thing) 
any  virtue  that  is  peculiar  to  the  nature  of  another 
and  foreign  to  his  own  ; and  so  he  does  not  repress 
any  desire,  that  is  (by  Schol.  to  ProjD.  11),  he  is  not 
vexed  or  grieved  Avhen  he  contemplates  a certain  vir- 
tue or  130 wer  in  another  avIio  does  not  resemble  him- 
self ; and  consequently  he  cannot  be  envious  of  such 
an  one.  But  he  can  be  envious  of  one  avIio  is  his 
equal  and  who  is  supposed  to  be  of  the  same  nature 
as  himself.  Q.  e.  d. 

Schol. — When  therefore  we  said,  in  the  Schol.  to 
Prop.  52,  that  we  respect  a man  because  we  admire 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OK  PASSIONS.  185 


his  prudence,  liis  fortitude,  etc.,  it  is  because  he  has 
these  virtues  in  a singular  or  high  degree,  and  not  be- 
cause we  imagine  them  as  common  to  his  nature  and 
our  own  ; and  consequently  we  envy  him  those  vir- 
tues no  more  than  we  envy  trees  their  height,  lions 
their  strength,  etc. 

PKOP.  LYI. — There  are  as  many  kinds  of  joy, 

' sorrow,  and  desire,  and  consequently  of  af- 
fections or  passions  tliat  are  conipoiinded 
of  these,  as  also  kinds  of  huctiiation  of  soul 
and  derivatives  from  these,  namely: — love, 
liatc,  hope,  fear,  etc.,  as  there  are  kinds  of 
objects  by  which  we  arc  affected. 

Deuonstk. — Joy  and  sorrow,  and  consequent!}^ 
the  affections  compounded  of  these  or  derived  from 
them,  are  passions  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  11).  Now  (by 
Prop.  1),  we  necessarily  suffer  in  so  far  as  we  have 
inadequate  ideas,  and  it  is  only  in  so  far  as  we  have 
inadequate  ideas  that  we  do  suffer  (by  Proj).  3) ; that 
is  to  say  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.),  we  neces- 
sarily suffer  only  in  so  far  as  we  imagine  or  are  af- 
fected by  a iiassion  which  involves  the  nature  of  our 
own  body  and  the  nature  of  an  external  body  {vide 
Prop.  17,  Part  II.  and  its  Schol.).  The  nature  of  each 
individual  passion  must  therefore  necessarily  be  ex- 
plained in  such  a way  that  it  will  ex])ress  the  nature 
of  the  object  by  which  we  are  affected.  For  example  : 
tile  joy  which  arises  from  an  object — say  A,  involves 
the  nature  of  the  object  A ; and  the  joy  which  arises 
from  the  object  B involves  the  nature  of  the  object  B ; 
and  therefore  these  two  affections  or  passions  of  joy 
are  of  different  natures  inasmuch  as  they  arise  from 


186 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


causes  of  a different  nature.  So  also  is  the  passion 
of  sorrow  wliicli  arises  from  one  object  different  in  its 
nature  from  the  sorrow  which  arises  from  anotlier 
object  ; and  the  same  is  to  be  understood  of  love, 
hare,  hope,  fear,  fluctuation  of  soul,  etc. ; so  that  there 
are  necessarily  as  many  kinds  of  joy,  sorrow,  love, 
hate,  etc.,  as  there  are  kinds  of  objects  by  which  Ave 
are  affected. 

Blit  desire  is  itself  the  very  essence  or  nature  of 
every  one  of  them,  in  so  far  as  they  are  severally  con- 
cehmd  to  be  determined  by  their  constitution  or  na- 
ture to  act  in  a particular  Avay  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop. 
9)  ; therefore  according  as  each  individual  is  affected 
by  this  or  that  external  ca  :ise  with  this  or  that  kind 
of  joy,  sorrow,  love,  hate,  etc.,  that  is,  according  as 
his  nature  is  constituted  in  this  or  that  way,  so  must 
the  nature  of  one  desire  necessarily  differ  from  the 
nature  of  another  desire,  but  only  in  so  far  as  the  af- 
fection or  passion  from  Avhicli  it  arises  differs  from 
anotlier  affection  or  passion.  There  are,  therefore,  as 
many  kinds  of  desire  as  there  are  kinds  oi  joy,  sor- 
row, love,  etc.;  and  consequently  (as  shown)  as  many 
as  there  are  kinds  of  objects  by  which  Ave  are  affected. 

(^  E.  D. 

SciioL. — Among  the  different  kinds  of  affections  or 
])assions, — AAdiich  (by  preceding  Prop.)  must  indeed 
be  very  numerous, — there  are  some  that  are  particu- 
larh"  remarkable,  such  as  gluttony  {luxw'ia)^  drunk- 
enness, lust,  aAmrice,  and  ambition.  These  are  but 
forms  of  love  or  desire,  AAdiich  explain  the  nature  of' 
each  particular  affection  or  passion  by  the  object  to 
Avliich  it  is  referred.  For  bj^  gluttony,  drunkenness, 
lust,  avarice,  and  ambition  Ave  understand  nothing 
more  than  an  immoderate  love  of  feasting,  drinking, 
sexual  indulgence,  riches,  and  glory.  Moreover  these 


P.AllT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  187 


])assions,  in  so  far  as  tliey  are  clistingnisliecl  from  one 
another  solely  tlie  objects  to  they  are  re- 

feirecl,  have  no  opposites.  For  moderation,  wliich 
vre  are  accustomed  to  oppose  to  gluttony,  sobriety  to 
driudvenness,  and  cliastity  to  Inst,  are  not  affections 
or  passions,  bat  only  indicate  the  i)ower  whereby  the 
sonl  moderates  the  passions. 

As  to  various  other  kinds  of  affections,  I cannot 
enter  upon  an  ex2:)]anation  of  them  here  (for  they  are 
as  numerous  as  the  objects  that  produce  them),  nor 
if  I should,  would  there  be  any  necessity  to  do  so. 
For  with  the  purpose  I have  in  view,  which  is  to  de- 
termine the  force  of  the  affections  or  passions  and  the 
power  of  the  soul  over  them,  it  will  be  sufficient  if 
we  have  a general  definition  of  each  affection  or  pas- 
sion. It  Avill  suffice,  I say,  for  ns  to  understand  the 
common  properties  of  the  affections  and  of  the  soul, 
to  be  enabled  to  determine  the  nature  and  extent  of 
the  power  Avhich  the  soul  possesses  to  moderate  and 
control  the  passions.  Although  therefore  there  may 
be  a great  difference  between  this  and  that  affection 
of  lov^e,  hate,  or  desire, — as,  for  example, — betAveen 
love  for  children  and  love  for  a Avife,  yet  there  is  no 
occasion  for  us  to  ascertain  these  differences  and  to 
further  investigate  the  nature  and  origin  of  the  pas- 
sions. 

PROP.  LVII. — The  passion  of  one  individual 
differs  from  the  passion  of  anotlier  only  in 
so  far  as  the  essence  of  one  individual  dif- 
fers from  the  essence  of  another. 

Deaioxstk.— This  Proposition  is  manifest  by  Axiom 
1,  Avhich  see  after  Lem.  8 of  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  18, 
Part  II.  Xevertheless  Ave  shall  proceed  to  demon- 


188 


s.'ixoza’s  ethics. 


strate  it  from  the  definitions  of  the  three  primary 
affections  or  passions. 

All  the  passions  are  referred  to  desire^  joy^  and 
sorrow^ — as  shown  in  the  dehnitions  we  have  given  of 
these.  But  desire  is  itself  the  very  nature  or  essence 
of  each  passion  {vide  Def.  of  desire  in  the  Scbol.  to 
Prop.  9).  Therefore  the  desire  of  one  individual  dif- 
fers from  that  of  another  individual  only  in  so  far  as 
the  nature  or  essence  of  one  differs  from  the  essence 
of  another.  Again,  joy  and  sorrow  are  passions  by 
which  the  power  or  effort  of  each  individual  to  per- 
severe in  his  state  of  being  is  augmented  or  diminished, 
favored  or  hindered  (by  Prop.  11  and  its  Schol.V  But 
by  this  effort  to  persevere  in  his  being,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  referred  to  both  soul  and  body,  we  understand 
appetite  or  desire  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  9).  Therefore 
joy  and  sorrow  are  themselves  desire  or  appetite,  in 
so  far  as  they  are  augmented  or  diminished,  favored 
or  hindered  by  external  causes  ; in  other  words  (by 
same  Schol.),  desire  is  itself  the  nature  of  each;  so 
that  the  jo}’  or  sorrow  of  one  individual  differs  from 
the  joy  or  sorrow  of  another  only  in  so  far  as  the  nature 
or  essence  of  one  individual  differs  from  the  essence 
of  another ; and  consectuently  the  passion  of  one 
individual  differs  from  the  passion  of  another  indivi- 
dual only  in  so  far  as,  etc.  q.  e.  i). 

SciiOL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  passions  of  ani- 
mals, which  are  said  to  be  without  reason  (for  know- 
ing the  source  of  the  soul  we  cannot  doubt  that  beasts 
have  feeling),  differ  from  the  passions  of  men  as  much 
as  their  nature  differs  from  human  nature.  Man  and 
the  horse  alike  burn  with  the  desire  by  which  they 
procreate  their  kind,  but  the  one  is  equine,  the  other 
liuman  lust.  And  so  must  the  lusts  and  appetites 
of  insects,  birds,  and  fishes  differ  according  to  the 


PART  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  189 


different  natures  of  each.  Although  each  individual 
therefore  lives  coiiteutedly  and  enjoys  life  in  the  way 
its  own  nature  determines,  nevertheless,  that  life  and 
that  eiijoymeut  with  Avhich  each  is  contented  are 
nothing  but  the  idea  or  soul  of  the  individual  ; and 
so  the  enjoyment  of  one  only  differs  in  nature  from 
the  enjoyment  of  another  in  so  far  as  the  essence  of 
one  differs  from  the  essence  of  another.  Lastly,  it 
follows  from  the  preceding  Proposition  that  the  dif- 
ference is  not  trivial  between  the  enjoyment  which 
the  drunkard,  for  example,  has  in  his  drunkenness 
and  that  which  the  iffiilosopher  has  in  his  studies 
and  reflections  ; a remark  which  in  passing  I desired  to 
make.  This  completes  what  I had  to  say  of  the  affec- 
tions which  are  referred  to  man  in  so  far  as  he  suffers. 
It  remains  for  me  to  add  a few  words  on  those  which 
are  referred  to  him  in  so  far  as  he  acts. 

PllOP.  LYlIl. — Besides  the  joy  and  desire 
which  are  passions,  there  are  other  joys 
and  desires  whicli  arc  referred  to  ns  in  so 
far  as  we  act, 

Demonstr. — When  the  soul  conceives  itself  and 
its  power  of  action,  it  is  rejoiced  (by  Prop.  53).  But 
the  soul  necessarily  contemplates  itself  when  it  con- 
ceives true  or  adequate  ideas  (by  Prop.  43,  Part  II.). 
Xow  the  soul  does  conceive  some  adequate  ideas  (by 
the  Schol.  2 of  Prop.  40,  Part  II.).  It  is  therefore 
l ejoiced  in  so  far  as  it  conceives  such  adequate  ideas, — 
that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  1),  in  so  far  as  it  acts.  Fur- 
ther, the  soul,  whether  it  has  clear  and  distinct,  or 
confused  ideas,  endeavors  to  persevere  in  its  state  of 
b(4ng  (by  Prop.  9) ; — but  by  endeavor  we  understand 
desire  (by  Schol.  to  same  Prop.).  Therefore  desire  is 


100 


Spinoza's  ethics. 


referred  to  ns  in  so  far  as  we  understand  and  also 
by  Prop.  1)  in  so  far  as  we  act.  e.  i). 

PROP.  LTX. — Among  all  the  affections  or  pas- 
sions referred  to  the  soul  in  so  far  as  it 
acts,  there  are  none  that  are  not  referable 
to  joy  or  to  desire. 

Demoxstr. — All  the  affections  or  jiassions  are  le- 
ferable  to  desire,  to  joy,  or  to  sorrow, — as  shown  in 
the  detinitions  we  liave  given  of  these.  By  pain, 
grief,  or  sorrow,  however,  we  understand  that  which 
diminishes  or  restrains  the  soul's  power  to  think  (by 
Prop.  11  and  its  Schol. ) ; consequent!}^ — in  so  far  as 
the  soul  is  grieved,  in  so  far  is  its  power  of  under- 
standing, that  is  (by  Proj).  1),  its  power  of  acting, 
diminished  or  resti*ained  ; — therefore  no  sorrowful  or 
painful  affection  can  be  referred  to  the  soul  in  so  far 
as  it  acts,  but  only  joyful  affections  and  desires  can 
(by  jDreceding  Prfqi.)  be  so  referied  to  the  soul. 
(^  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — All  actions  that  follow  from  affections  or 
passions  refeiavd  to  the  soul  in  so  far  as  it  under- 
stands I ascribe  to  fortitude  {fortitudo),  which  I dis- 
tinguish into  courage  {animositas)  and  generosity 
(generositas).  I understand  by  courage  that  desire 
whereby  every  one  endeavoi's  to  preserve  his  being 
by  the  dictates  of  reason  alone  ; and  by  generosity 
that  desire  whereby  every  one  endeavors  to  aid  and 
live  in  friendship  with  other  men  by  the  dictates  of 
reason  alone-  Those  actions  therefore  that  tend  solely 
to  the  advantage  of  the  actor,  I refer  to  courage  ; and 
those  that  tend  to  the  advantage  of  other  men  also,  I 
refer  to  generosity.  So  that  modeiation,  sobriety, 
presence  of  mind  in  the  face  of  danger,  etc.,  are 


I 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIO^\S.  191 


species  of  courage, — whilst  modesty,  clemenc}",  etc., 
are  s|)ecies  of  generosity. 

It  seems  to  me  now  that  I liave  explained  and  re- 
ferred to  their  first  causes  the  principal  affections  and 
fiuct nations  of  the  soul  that  arise  from  the  combina- 
tions of  the  three  primary  passions,  viz.  : Desire, 
Joy,  and  Sorrow.  It  will  be  seen  thereby  that  we 
are  liable  to  be  affected  in  a great  many  ways  by  ex- 
ternal causes,  and  that  like  the  sea,  agitated  by 
oi)posing  and  changing  winds,  we  are  tossed  to  and 
fro  in  ignorance  of  the  issues  of  events  and  of  our 
destiny. 

I have  explained,  I .say,  the  principal,  but  not  by 
any  means  all  the  confiicting  affections  and  fiuctua- 
tions  of  the  soul.  But,  proceeding  in  the  same  way 
as  above,  it  would  be  easy  to  show  love  combined 
with  repentance  or  regret,  disdain,  shame,  etc.  I 
believe,  indeed,  that  from  what  has  been  already 
said,  every  one  will  now  admit  that  it  is  clearly  estab- 
lished that  the  affections  may  l)e  combined  with  each 
other  in  so  many  ways  that  vaiieties  would  arise  too 
numerous  to  be  defined.  But  it  has  sufficed  for  my 
[)urpose  to  have  enumerated  only  the  ones  ; 

and  as  to  those  I have  omitted  to  speak  of,  an  inves- 
tigation of  them  would  bo  rather  a matter  of  curiosity 
than  of  utility.  It  remains  to  be  observed  of  love, 
howevei',  that  it  frequently  ha])2:)ens,  whilst  enjoying 
the  thing  we  desire,  that  the  body  acquires  by  such 
fruition  a new  constitution  which  gives  it  new  deter- 
minations, so  that  other  images  of  things  are  excited 
in  us,  and,  as  a consequenct\  the  soul  b(\a-ins  at  once 
to  imagine  and  to  desire  inov  things.  For  example — 
Avhen  Ave  imagine  something  the  taste  of  which  for- 
merly gave  us  i)leasure,  we  desir(‘  to  ])artake  of  and 
enjoy  it  again.  But  aft(T  we  have  done  so  and  the 


192 


spixoza's  ethics. 


stomach  is  tilled,  then  the  body  becomes  otherwise 
disposed.  If  now,  the  body  being  otherwise  dis- 
posed, the  image  of  the  same  viand  is  again  present 
in  the  mind,  and  with  it  a desire  and  an  effort  to  \mv- 
take  of  it,  it  will  happen  tliat  the  new  constitution  of 
tlie  body  will  be  opposed  to  this  desire  or  effort,  and 
consequently  the  presence  of  the  food  we  befori^ 
desired  and  enjoyed  will  now  become  disagreeable  to 
ns ; this  is  what  is  characterized  as  loatliinr)  and  dia- 
ff  ust  {fastidlo  et  tcedio). 

I have  also  omitted  to  notice  the  outward  affections 
of  the  body  which  are  observed  in  passions,  snch  as 
tremor,  sobbing,  laughing,  etc.,  because 

they  are  referred  solely  to  the  body  and  have  no 
relation  to  the  soul.  Something,  however,  remains  to 
be  said  in  the  Avay  of  definition  of  the  several  x:»as- 
sions,  and  for  this  purpose  I shall  arrange  them  here 
in  succession,  interposing  snch  explanations  as  may 
be  suitable  to  each. 

DEFIXITIOXS  OF  THE  PASSIOXS. 

1.  Desipe  {cupiditas)  is  the  very  essence  of  man 
in  so  far  as  he  is  conceived  as  determined  by  any 
given  affection  to  do  some  action. 

Explanation. — We  have  said  in  the  Schol.  to 
Prop.  9 that  desire  is  appetite  with  consciousness  of 
the  same,  and  that  appetite  is  the  very  essence  of 
man  in  so  far  as  he  is  determined  to  do  those  actions 
Avhich  serve  for  his  preservation.  But  Ave  have  also 
said  in  that  same  Scholium  that  we  did  not  recognize 
any  real  difference  between  human  desire  and  appe*- 
tite.  For  whether  man  is  or  is  not  conscious  of  his 
appetites,  still  apiietite  remains  one  and  the  same  ; 
and  fearing  therefore  to  commit  a seeming  tan  to- 


PAKT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OE  PASSIONS.  193 


logy  I was  unwilling  to  explain  desire  by  appetite, 
but  was  studious  to  define  it  in  such  a way  that  all 
the  efforts  of  our  human  nature  which  we  signify  by 
the  names  of  appetite,  will,  desire,  and  impulse,  might 
be  comprehended  in  one  definition.  For  I might 
have  said  that  desire  is  the  very  essence  of  man  in  so 
far  as  he  is  conceived  as  determined  to  any  action  ; 
but  it  would  not  have  followed  from  this  definition 
(by  Prop.  23,  Part  II.)  that  the  soul  was  conscious  of 
its  desire  or  appetite.  Therefore  in  order  that  the 
cause  of  the  consciousness  might  be  included  in  my 
definition,  it  was  necessary  (by  same  Prop.)  to  add  : 
“in  so  far  as  he  is  determined  by  any  given  affec- 
tion,” etc.  For  by  an  affection  of  the  essence  of 
man  we  understand  a certain  state  or  constitution  of 
that  essence,  whether  it  be  innate,  or  be  conceived  by 
the  attribute  of  thought  alone,  or  by  the  attribute  of 
extension  alone,  or  lastly,  be  referred  to  both  of  these 
attributes  at  once.  Wherefore  under  the  name  of 
desire  I understand  efforts,  impulses,  appetites,  and 
volitions  of  every  kind,  which  vary  with  the  varying 
constitution  of  man,  and  are  not  unfrequently  so 
opposed  to  each  other  that  man  is  drawn  in  many 
different  ways,  and  knows  not  whither  to  turn  or 
what  course  to  pursue. 

v2.  Joy  {Icefitia)  is  the  transition  of  man  from  a 
less  to  a greater  perfection. 

3.  SoPviiOW  {tristitia)  is  the  transition  of  man  from 
a greater  to  a less  perfection. 

'Expl. — I say  transition^  for  joy  is  not  itself  perfec- 
tion. For  if  man  was  born  with  that  perfection  to 
which  he  passes,  he  might  possess  it  without  any 
affection  of  joy, — a proposition  that  will  appear  more- 
clearly  from  the  affection  of  sorrow,  which  is  the  con- 
trary of  joy.  For  no  one  can  deny  that  sorrow  con- 


194 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


sists  ill  the  transition  to  a lesser  state  of  perfection, 
and  not  in  that  lesser  ])erfection  itself,  since  man  can- 
not grieve  in  so  far  as  he  partakes  of  any  perfection 
whatsoever.  IS" either  can  we  say  that  sorrow  consists 
in  the  privation  of  a greater  perfection, — for  privation 
is  nothing.  But  sorrow,  grief,  is  the  act  of  an  affec- 
tion, which  act  can  be  no  other  than  the  act  of  transi- 
tion to  a lesser  state  of  perfection  ; in  other  words,  an 
act  by  Avhich  man’s  power  of  action  is  diminished  or 
restrained  {mde  Schol.  to  Prop.  11).  For  the  rest,  I 
omit  here  any  definition  of  hilarity  {Ml  ar  it  as),  plea- 
sure {titillatio)^  melancholy  {melancliolia),  and  pain 
{dolor),  because  these  are  all  chietiy  referable  to 
the  body  and  are  nothing  but  species  of  joy  and 
•sorrow. 

4.  Astonishment,  AdmiPvATIon  {admiratio)  is  that 
imagination  of  a particular  thing  which  fascinates  and 
liolds  the  attention  of  the  mind  or  soul  so  fixedly  that 
this  particular  imagination  has  no  connection  with 
any  others  {i^lde  Prop.  52  and  its  Schol.). 

Expl. — In  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  IS,  Part  II.,  we  have 
shown  the  reason  why  the  mind  from  tlie  contempla- 
tion of  one  thing  passes  immediately  to  the  contem- 
])lation  of  another,  namely,  because  the  images  of 
these  things  are  so  connected  with  each  other  and 
•arranged  in  such  order  that  one  follows  another. 
This,  however,  cannot  be  conceived  to  occur  when  the 
mind  contemplates  for  the  first  time  a thing  that  is 
new  to  it.  In  that  case  the  attention  of  the  mind  will 
be  arrested  and  held  fast  until  other  causes  determine 
it  to  think  of  other  things.  The  imagination  there- 
fore of  a thing  that  is  new  to  us  is  of  the  same  natun* 
considered  in  itself  as  all  other  imaginations  ; and  on 
tliis  account  I do  not  include  admiration  among  the 
"affections, — nor  do  I see  any  reason  why  I should,  see- 


PART  ITT.  — OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  195 

iiig  that  this  drawing  or  concentration  of  tlie  imagi- 
nation upon  one  object  arises  from  no  positive  cause 
disjoining  the  mind  from  the  contemplation  of  other 
tilings,  but  only  from  this : that  a cause  is  wanting 
which  would  determine  the  mind  to  pass  from  the 
contemplation  of  one  object  to  thought  of  another. 
1 recognize  therefore  (as  I have  already  said  in  the 
Schol.  to  Prop.  11)  only  three  primitive  or  primary 
passions,  viz., — Joy,  Sorrow,  and  Desire;  and  if  I 
have  spoken  of  Admiration  it  is  for  no  other  reason 
than  that  it  is  customary  to  indicate  certain  passions 
derived  from  the  three  primitives  by  other  and  spe- 
cial names  when  they  are  referred  to  objects  which  we 
admire.  And  for  the  same  reason  I am  induced  to 
add  here  a definition  of  contempt. 

5.  Contempt  {contemtus)  is  that  imagination  of 
anything  which  aifects  the  soul  in  so  slight  a degree 
that  the  soul  is  more  moved  by  the  presence  of  the 
thing  to  imagine  what  does  not  belong  to  it  than  what 
does  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  52). 

I omit  here  definitions  of  Veneration  (veneratlo)  and 
Disdain  ( dedignatio)^  because  no  affections  that  I 
know  of  derive  their  names  from  these. 

6.  Love  {amor)  is  joy  accompanied  by  the  idea  of 
its  external  cause. 

Expl. — This  definition  explains  clearly  enough  the 
essence  of  love.  Writers  who  have  defined  love  to  be 
the  will  or  wish  of  the  lover  to  be  united  to  the  object 
loved  express  a property  of  love  but  not  its  essence  ; 
and  inasmuch  as  these  writers  have  not  fully  dis- 
cerned the  essence  of  love  they  have  not  been  able  to 
form  any  clear  conception  of  ifs  properties,  so  that 
the  definitions  hitherto  given  of  love  have  generally 
been  deemed  exceedingly  obscure.  I beg  however 
to  observe  here,  that  when  I say  it  is  the  property  of 


196 


spixoza’s  ethics.  ' 


love  for  the  lover  to  will  or  desire  to  be  united  to  the 
object  loved,  I do  not  understand  by  loill  or  imsli  a 
consent,  deliberate  purpose,  or  free  decision  of  the 
sonl  (for  that  is  tictitious,  as  I have  demonstrated  in 
Prop.  48,  Part  II.) ; neither  do  I understand  it  to  be 
the  desire  of  the  lover  to  unite  himself  with  the 
object  loved  when  absent,  or  of  continuing  in  its 
presence  when  near  (for  love  can  be  conceived  to 
exist  without  this  or  that  desire)  ; but  I understand 
by  will  or  desire  that  contentment  or  satisfaction 
which  the  lover  feels  in  the  presence  of  the  object 
loved,  and  which  strengthens  or  at  least  nourishes 
the  joy  he  feels  in  his  love. 

7.  Hate  (odium)  is  sorrow  accomiianied  by  the  idea 
of  its  external  cause. 

Expl. — The  remarks  that  might  be  made  on  hate 
will  be  easily  perceived  by  what  has  been  said  in  the 
explanation  to  the  preceding  definition  of  love.  See, 
besides,  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  13. 

- 8.  Likixg  (yropensio)  is  joy  accompanied  by  the 
idea  of  an  object  which  is  accidentally  the  cause  of 
joy. 

9.  Aveksiox,  Dislike  {aversio),  is  a feeling  of  sor- 
row accompanied  by  the  idea  of  a thing  which  is  acci- 
dentally the  cause  of  sorrow.  On  these  two  passions, 
vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  15. 

10.  Deyotiox  (devotio)  is  love  for  an  object  we  ad- 
mire. 

Expl. — We  have  shown  in  Prop.  52  that  admiration 
arises  from  the  novelty  of  a thing.  If  it  haiijiens 
therefore  that  we  very  frequently  imagine  an  object 
that  Ave  admire,  we  will  cease  to  admire  it ; which 
shows  that  the  passion  or  feeling  of  devotion  easily 
degenerates  into  simple  love. 

11.  Derisiox,  Mockery  (irrisio)^  is  a joy  arising 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  197 


from  our  imagining  sometliing  we  despise  in  the  thing 
we  hate. 

Expl. — In  so  far  as  we  despise  the  thing  we  hate,  in 
so  far  do  we  negative  its  existence  {mde  Schol.  to 
Prop.  52),  and  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  20)  do  we  exi:>e- 
rience  joy.  But  as  we  suppose  that  a man  must  hate 
what  he  despises,  it  follows  that  this  joy  is  not  real 
{rdde  Schol.  to  Prop.  47). 

12.  Hope  {spes)  is  an  uncertain  joy  arising  from 
the  idea  of  something  past  or  to  come,  of  the  issue  of 
which  we  are  more  or  less  in  doubt. 

13.  Fear  {metus)  is  an  inconstant  sorrow  which 
arises  from  the  idea  of  something  past  or  to  come,  of 
the  issue  of  which  we  are  more  or  less  in  doubt.  Vide 
Schol.  2 to  Prop.  18. 

Expl. — It  follows  from  these  two  definitions  that 
there  is  no  hope  Avithout  fear,  and  no  fear  Avithout 
hope.  For  he  AAdio  lives  in  hope  pending  the  issue  of 
an  event,  and  doubts  Avhether  it  aauII  correspond  Avith 
his  desires,  is  supposed  to  imagine  something  which 
excludes  the  existence  of  a future  thing ; in  so  far 
therefore  Avill  he  be  grieved  (by  Prop.  19), — and  conse- 
quently so  long  as  he  lives  in  hope  as  to  the  issue  of 
an  event,  so  long  does  he  fear.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  Avho  fears,  i.c.,  AAdio  doubts  of  the  happening  of 
something  he  dislikes,  also  imagines  something  AAdiicii 
excludes  the  existence  of  the  thing  he  dislikes  ; in  so 
far  therefore  does  he  rejoice  (by  Prop.  20),  and  conse- 
quently lives  in  hope  that  it  aauII  not  happen. 

• 14.  Security  {securitas)  is  a joy  arising  from  the 
idea  of  something  past  or  to  come,  about  Avhich  all 
cause  for  doubt  is  remoA^ed. 

15.  Despair  (desperatid)  is  soitoav  arising  from  the 
idea  of  a thing  jiast  or  to  come,  in  reference  to  Avhicli 
all  cause  of  doubt  has  disappeared. 

Expl. — Security,  therefore,  is  born  from  hope,  and 


198 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


despair  from  fear,  when  cause  for  doubt  about  the 
issue  of  an  event  is  banished  ; and  this  happens  when 
man  imagines  a past  or  future  thing  as  existing  and 
c.ontemplates  it  as  present, — or  wlien  he  imagines  other 
things  which  exclude  the  existence  of  that  which 
occasioned  doubt.  For  although  we  can  never  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  81,  Part  II.)  be  certain  of  the  issues 
of  i^articular  things,  it  may  still  happen  that  we  will 
have  no  doubt  of  their  issues.  For  we  have  shown 
{vide  Prop.  49,  Part  II.)  that  to  have  no  doubt  of  a 
thing  is  quite  different  from  being  certain  of  it ; and 
so  it  may  happen  that  in  imagining  a thing  past  or  to 
come  we  will  experience  the  same  affection  of  joy  or 
of  sorrov/  as  a thing  present  would  cause  us, — as  we 
have  demonstrated  in  Prop.  18,  and  its  Scholiums, 
which  see. 

16.  Gladxess,  Delight  {gaudmm\  is  joy  accom- 
panied by  the  idea  of  a past  thing  which  has  hap- 
pened against  our  hopes. 

17.  Pemokse  {conscienticB  onorsus)  is  sorrow  accom- 
panied by  the  idea  of  a past  thing  which  has  hap- 
pened contrary  to  expectation. 

18.  CoMMiSERATiox  {covimiseratio)  is  sorrow  ac-  ' 
companied  by  the  idea  of  some  evil  that  has  befallen 
another  whom  we  imagine  like  unto  ourselves  {vide 
Scliol.  to  Prop.  22  and  Schol.  to  Prop.  27). 

Expl. — Between  commiseration  and  pity  {miseri- 
cordia)  there  seems  to  be  no  difference,  unless  it  be 
that  commiseration  is  referred  to  an  individual  affec- 
tion, and  pity  to  an  habitual  disposition. 

19.  Favor,  Approbatiox”  {fador)^  is  love  for  one 
who  does  good  to  another. 

20.  IxDiGXATiox  {indignat id)  is  hate  for  a person 
who  does  evil  to  another. 

Expl. — I am  aware  that  these  words  as  commonly 
used  have  a different  signification.  But  it  is  not  my 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIONS.  lOJ 


])iirpose  to  explain  the  meaning  of  words,  but  tlie 
nature  of  things,  and  to  indicate  this  by  words  the 
meaning  of  which  as  commonly  used  does  not  wholly 
differ  from  the  meaning  I would  attach  to  tliem.  Let 
it  sutlice  that  I give  notice  of  this  once  for  all."^  As 
to  the  causes  of  these  two  affections,  vide  Schol.  to 
Prop.  22  and  the  Coroll.  1 to  Prop.  27. 

21.  Over-Esteew  {exist iniatlo)  consists  in  thiidv- 
ing,  through  too  much  love  of  a person,  more  liighly 
of  him -than  is  just. 

22.  Depreciation  {despectm')  consists  in  thinking 
too  unjustly  of  one  through  hate  of  him. 

Expl. — Esteem  therefore  is  an  effect  or  property  of 
love,  as  depreciation  is  of  hate.  Consequently,  over- 
esteem may  be  defined  as  love  so  disposing  men  that 
they  think  more  highly  of  the  object  loved  than  is 
just  ; and,  on  the  contrary,  depreciation  may  be  de- 
fined as  hate  so  disiiosing  men  that  they  think  less  fa- 
vorably of  the  object  hated  than  is  just.  Vide  Schol. 
to  Prop.  26. 

23.  Envy  {invidia)  is  hate,  inasmuch  as  it  disposes 
a man  to  be  grieved  at  another  s success  or  happi- 
ness, and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  rejoiced  at  an- 
other’s failure  or  misfortune. 

Expl. — Pity,  Sympathy  (misericordia),  is  com- 
monly opposed  to  envy,  and  therefore,  notwithstand- 
ing the  meaning  usually  attached  to  the  word,  it  may 
be  defined  thus  : 


* The  announcement  here  made  hy  Spinoza  that  he  designates  the 
several  affections  or  passions  by  words  the  meaning  of  which  as  com- 
monly used  does  not  loholly  differ  from  the  meaning  he  attaches  to 
them,  implies  that  there  is  in  some  cases  a difference.  In  fact  this  is 
quite  apparent  in  several  instances,  and  therefore  throughout  this  and 
the  next  Part  the  Latin  word  is  generally  given  in  connection  with  its 
translation. — Tr. 


200 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


24.  Sympathy  is  love,  inasmuch  as  it  disposes  a 
man  in  such  a way  that  he  rejoices  at  the  prosperity 
or  happiness  of  another,  and,  on  the  contrary,  grieves 
over  another’s  misfortune. 

Expl. — See  furtlier  in  relation  to  Envy  tlie  Scliol. 
to  Prop.  24,  and  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  32. 

Thus  far  the  several  alfections  or  jiassions  of  joy 
and  sorrow  which  I have  defined  are  all  accompanied 
by  the  idea  of  some  external  thing  which  is  either  of 
itself  or  by  accident  the  cause  of  them.  I now  pass 
on  to  the  affections  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  some- 
thing interiml  as  cause. 

25.  Self-satisf ACTION  {acquiescent la)  is  joy  aris- 
ing from  man’s  contemiffation  of  himself  and  his 
jiowers  of  action. 

26.  Humility  {liiimilitas)  is  sorrow  springing  from 
man’s  contemplating  his  own  impotency  or  imbe- 
cility. 

Expl. — Self-satisfaction  is  the  opposite  of  humil- 
ity, in  so  far  as  we  understand  by  it  a jo}^  arising 
from  the  contemplation  of  our  power  of  action  ; but 
if  we  understand  by  it  a joy  accompanied  by  the 
idea  of  an  action  Avhich  we  believe  we  have  per- 
formed by  a free  decision  of  our  soul,  then  is  it  the 
opposite  of  repentance^  which  we  define  in  this  Avay  : 

27.  Repentance  (poenitentla)  is  sorrow  accom- 
lianied  by  the  idea  of  an  action  which  we  think  we 
liave  performed  by  a free  decision  of  the  soul. 

Expl. — We  have  shown  the  causes  of  these  last  two 
passions  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  51  and  Props.  53,  54, 
55,  and  the  Scholium  to  the  latter.  As  to  the  free- 
dom of  the  decisions  of  the  soul,  mde  Schol.  to  Prop. 
35,  Part  II.  But  we  have  to  remark  here,  in  addi- 
tion, that  it  is  not  surprising  that  all  the  actions 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  call  lorong  should  be  ac- 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS.  201 


companiecl  by  sorrow,  and  those  we  call  ricjlit  by 
joy  ; for  that  this  depends  very  much  on  education  is 
readily  understood  from  what  has  been  said  above. 
It  is  indisputable  that  parents  by  condemning  certain 
actions  and  often  reprimanding  their  children  for 
committing  them,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  by  prais- 
ing and  approving  other  actions,  have  brought  it  to 
pass  that  sorrowful  emotions  are  associated  with  the 
former,  and  joyful  emotions  with  the  latter.  This 
is  confirmed  by  experience.  For  habit  and  religion 
are  not  the  same  for  all  men  ; but,  on  the  con- 
trary, what  is  deemed  sacred  by  some  is  regarded 
as  profane  by  others,  and  Avhat  is  considered  hon- 
orable by  some  is  thought  to  be  base  by  others. 
Each  one,  therefore,  according  to  the  community  in 
wliich  he  lives  and  as  he  is  educated,  either  repents 
or  glorifies  himself  for  the  same  action. 

28.  Pride  {superhia)  consists  of  thinking  more 
highly  of  one’s-self  through  self-love  than  is  right. 

Expl. — Pride  therefore  differs  from  esteem  {exisii- 
matio)^  which  has  relation  to  an  external  object,  whilst 
pride  is  referred  to  the  very  xierson  who  thinks  more 
highly  of  himself  than  is  i3roper.  Moreover,  just  as 
esteem  is  an  effect  or  property  of  love  for  another,  so 
is  pride  an  effect  or  property  of  self-love.  We  may 
therefore  pride  to  be  self -lore  or  self-esteem  in- 

fiuencing  man  in  such  wise  that  he  thinks  more 
highly  of  himself  than  he  should  {ride  Schol.  to 
Prop.  26).  There  is  no  opposite  to  this  passion  ; for 
no  one,  through  hatred  of  himself  and  as  he  imagines 
that  he  cannot  do  this  or  that  thing,  thinks  less  fa- 
vorably of  himself  than  is  just.  For  whatever  a 
man  imagines  he  cannot  do,  he  necessarily  imagines  ; 
and  this  imagination  disposes  him  in  such  a way  that 
he  cannot  do  what  he  imagines  he  cannot  do.  For  so 


202 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


long  as  he  imagines  tliat  lie  cannot  do  this  or  that,  so 
long  is  he  undetermined  to  action, — and  consequently 
so  long  is  it  impossible  for  him  to  do  the  thing  in 
question.  And  yet  if  we  have  regard  to  matters  that 
depend  solely  on  opinion,  it  is  possible  for  us  to  con- 
ceive that  a man  may  think  less  favorably  of  himself 
than  he  ought.  For  it  is  very  possible  that  a man 
who  sorrowfully  contemplates  his  own  want  of  ability 
may  imagine  that  he  is  despised  by  everybody, — 
whilst  the  fact  may  be  that  there  is  nothing  that  any 
one  is  thinking  less  of  than  of  despising  him.  Fur- 
thermore, a man  may  think  less  favorably  of  himself 
than  is  just  if  he  denies  to  himself  the  ability  to  do 
something  at  the  present  time  of  which  as  regards  the 
future  he  is  uncertain, — such,  for  instance,  as  deny- 
ing that  it  is  xiossible  for  him  ever  to  know  anything 
with  certainty,  or  that  he  should  ever  desire  or  do 
anything  that  is  not  base  and  sinful,  etc.  Finally, 
we  may  say  that  a man  thinks  less  well  of  himself 
than  is  just  when  through  excessive  modesty  or  tim- 
idity he  is  afraid  to  attempt  certain  things  which 
others,  his  equals,  do  not  hesitate  to  undertake.  We 
might  therefore  oppose  to  pride  the  atfection  or  pas- 
sion which  we  shall  designate  as  self-abasement  or 
abjection;  for  as  pride  springs  from  self-esteem,  so 
does  self-abasement  spring  from  humility — and  con- 
sequently we  define  it  thus : 

29.  Self-abasemext,  Ab.tectiox  {abjectio),  con- 
sists in  one’s  thinking,  through  sorrow,  less  well  of 
himself  than  is  just. 

Expl. — Ordinarily,  however,  we  oppose  humility 
to  pride  ; but  we  then  have  more  regard  to  the  effects 
of  these  two  passions  than  to  their  nature.  For  we 
are  accustomed  to  call  him  proud  who  glorifies  him- 
self to  excess  {mcle  Schol.  to  Prop.  30),  who  speaks  of 


PART  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIOXS  OR  PASSIOXS-  203 


himself  only  to  praise  his  own  virtues,  and  of  others 
only  to  mention  their  vices, — who  would  have  himself 
considered  as  above  all  others,  and,  in  short,  who 
assumes  the  manner  and  bearing  of  those  who  are  far 
above  him  in  rank  and  distinction.  On  the  contraiy, 
we  call  him  hnndde  who  is  meek,  diffident,  and 
given  to  blushing,  who  acknowledges  his  own  defects 
and  praises  the  virtues  of  others,  who  gives  prece- 
dence to  every  one,  and,  linally,  who  moves  about  in 
a submissive  manner,  and  makes  no  display  of  dress 
or  personal  adornment.  These  two  passions  of  self- 
abasement  and  humility  are,  however,  extremely 
rare  ; for  human  nature,  considered  in  itself,  struggles 
against  them  as  much  as  possible  (?;/rZe  Props.  15  and 
54)  ; and  therefore  it  is  that  they  who  are  believed  to 
be  the  most  abject  and  humble  are  frequently  the 
most  ambitious  and  envious. 

30.  GtLorv  {gloria)  is  joy  accomj^anied  by  the  idea 
of  some  action  of  ours  which  we  imagine  others  will 
jiraise. 

31.  SiiA^tE  {pudor)  is  sorrow  accompanied  by  the 
idea  of  an  action  which  Ave  imagine  others  Avill  blame. 

Expl. — In  reference  to  these  two  affections  see  the 
Schol.  to  Prop.  30.  But  we  have  to  note  here  the 
difference  between  shame  and  modesty.  Shame  is 
sorrow  that  follows  an  action  of  which  we  are  our- 
selves ashamed.  Modesty  {verecuiidia)  is  that  fear 
or  dread  of  shame  which  restrains  a man  from  com- 
mitting a shameful  action.  Ordinarily  we  oppose 
modesty  to  impudence  {impudentia)^  Avhich  lioweA^er 
is  not  really  a passion,  as  I shall  show  in  the  proper 
place  ; but  the  names  given  to  the  passions  (as  I have 
already  said)  have  reference  rather  to  their  applica- 
tions than  to  their  nature. 

This  completes  all  I proposed  to  say  on  the  affec- 


204 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


tionsor  passions  of  joy  and  sorrow  ; and  I now  pass 
on  to  those  that  a]*e  referred  to  desire. 

32.  Loxoixa  {desideriuin)  is  desire  or  appetite  for 
the  possession  of  a thing  fostered  by  remembrance  of 
it,  and  at  the  same  time  restrained  by  the  recollec- 
tion of  other  things  which  seclude  the  existence  of 
the  thing  desired. 

Expl. — When  we  remember  any  tiling  we  are  there- 
by disposed,  as  I have  frequently  observed,  to  con- 
template it  by  the  same  affection  as  we  should  do  if 
it  were  actually  present.  But  this  disposition  or 
endeavor,  whilst  we  are  awake,  is  very  often  re- 
strained by  the  images  of  things  which  seclude  the 
existence  of  the  thing  remembered.  When  therefore 
we  remember  a thing  that  has  affected  us  with  any 
kind  of  joy,  we  endeavor  to  contemplate  that  thing 
with  the  same  pleasurable  affection  as  if  it  were 
actually  present,  which  endeavor,  however,  is  imme- 
diately restrained  by  the  recollection  of  things  which 
seclude  its  existence.  Wherefore  longing  is  really  a 
sorrow  which  is  oiDposed  to  the  joy  arising  from  the 
absence  of  a thing  we  dislike.  On  this  point  see  the 
Scliol.  to  Prop.  47.  But  as  the  word  longing  seems 
to  be  related  to  desire^  I have  thought  it  proper  to 
refer  this  affection  to  the  passion  of  desire. 

33.  Ehulatiox  (cemidatio)  is  the  desire  to  do  a 
certain  thing,  which  desire  is  engendered  in  us 
because  we  imagine  others  to  have  the  same  desire. 

Exg)l. — He  who  flees  because  he  sees  others  fly, 
or  who  is  affected  with  fear  because  he  sees  others 
afraid,  or  he  who  seeing  another  burn  his  hand  draws 
his  own  quickly  back  and  moves  his  body  as  if  his 
own  hand  had  been  burnt,  imitates  the  affection  of 
another,  but  cannot  be  said  to  emulate  him  ; and  this 
not  because  we  attribute  imitation  to  one  cause  and 


PAET  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  205 


emulation  to  another,  but  because  it  is  customary 
only  to  call  him  emulous  who  imitates  what  is  re- 
puted to  be  honorable,  useful,  or  agreeable.  As  to 
the  cause  of  emulation,  vide  Prop.  27  with  its  Schol  , 
— and  for  the  reason  why  tliis  passion  is  so  commonly 
joined  with  envy,  vide  Prop.  32  and  its  Schol. 

34.  Thankfulness  or  Gratitude  {grcdia  sen  grcdi- 
tudo)  is  that  desire  or  movement  of  love  b}^  which  we 
endeavor  to  benefit  him  who  through  a like  affection 
of  love  has  conferred  a benefit  on  us.  Vide  Prop.  39 
and  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  41. 

35.  Benevolence  iljenevolentia^  is  the  desire  to 
benefit  him  who  inspires  us  with  pity.  Vide  Schol. 
2 to  Prop.  27. 

36.  Anger  (/ru)  is  that  desire  which  incites  us  to 
do  injury  to  him  whom  we  hate.  Yide  for  this 
Prop.  39. 

37.  Vengeance  (eindicta)  is  that  desire  which 
moves  us  through  reciprocal  hate  to  do  injury  to  him 
who  from  a like  passion  would  injure  us.  Yide 
Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  40  and  its  Schol.  ' 

38.  Cruelty  or  Severity  {crudeldas  sen  scevdia) 
is  that  desire  which  moves  any  one  to  do  evil  to  him 
whom  we  love  or  pity. 

Expl. — To  severity  is  opjiosed  clemency,  which  is 
not  a x)assion,  but  a power  of  the  soul  by  which  man 
moderates  his  anger  and  vengeance. 

39.  Fear,  Dread  (timo'r),  is  the  desire  which  leads 
us  to  evade  a greater  evil  by  submitting  to  a lesser 
one  than  that  which  we  feared.  Yide  Schol.  to 
Prop.  39. 

40.  Boldness,  Daring  {gicdacia),  is  that  desire 
which  incites  a man  to  do  some  act  or  brave  some 
danger  feared  by  his  equals. 

41.  Pusillanimity  (pus Ulan  imitas)  consists  in 


206 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


this  : that  the  desire  of  a man  is  overpowered  by  the 
fear  of  a danger  his  equals  dare  to  face. 

Expl. — Pusillanimity  is  therefore  nothing  more 
than  fear  of  some  evil  Avhich  is  not  generally  or 
universally  dreaded.  For  this  reason  I do  not  refer 
it  to  the  passion  of  desire.  IS’evertheless  I wished  to 
explain  it  here,  because  in  so  far  as  regards  desire  it 
is  really  opposed  to  boldness  or  daring. 

42.  CoxsTERXATiox  (coiisternatio)  is  the  affection 
or  passion  experienced  by  him  whose  desire  to 
escape  an  evil  is  restrained  by  the  astonishment  pro- 
duced by  the  evil  he  fears. 

Expl. — Consternation  is  therefore  a species  of 
pusillanimity.  But  as  it  arises  from  a double  fear,  it 
may  more  conveniently  be  deffned  to  be  that  fear  which 
so  stupefies  a man  and  holds  him  in  such  a state 
of  irresolution  that  he  cannot  escape  from  the  evil 
that  confronts  him.  I say  stupefies.,  in  so  far  as  we 
understand  his  desire  to  escape  the  evil  to  be  hindered 
by  his  astonishment  ; — and  I say,  also,  makes  him 
irresolute.,  in  so  far  as  we  conceive  the  same  desire  to 
be  restrained  ])y  the  fear  of  another  evil  which 
menaces  him  with  equal  force, — so  that  he  does  not 
know  which  of  the  two  he  ought  to  shun.  See  on 
this  point  the  Schols.  to  Props.  39  and  52.  Also,  on 
pusillanimity  and  holclness  or  daring^  see  the  Schol. 
to  Prop.  51. 

43.  PoLiTEXESS  OR  CiYiLiiw  {Jiumauitas  sen  mo- 
clestuL)  is  the  desire  to  do  what  pleases,  and  to  forbear 
doing  Avhat  displeases  others. 

44.  Ambition  {amhitio)  is  immoderate  desire  of 
glory. 

Expl. — Ambition  is  the  desire  which  supports  and 
strengthens  all  the  passions  (by  Props.  27  and  31), 
and  therefore  it  is  difficult  to  master  this  affection : 


PART  III.— OF  THE  AFFECTIONS  OR  PASSIONS.  207 


for  SO  long  as  a man  is  under  the  influence  of  any  de- 
sire, he  is  also  at  the  same  time  necessarily  under  the 
influence  of  ambition.  “The  noblest  and  most  vir- 
tuous of  men,”  says  Cicero,'^  “are  the  most  allured 
by  glory.  Even  philosophers  who  have  written  books 
on  the  contempt  of  glory,  have  aflixed  their  names  to 
them,”  etc. 

45.  Luxury  {luxuria)  is  the  immoderate  desire  or 
even  love  of  feasting. 

46.  Drunkenness  {ebrietas)  is  tlie  immoderate  de- 
sire and  love  of  drinking. 

47.  Avarice  {acaritia)  is  the  immoderate  desire 
and  love  of  riches. 

48.  Lust  {libido)  is  the  immoderate  desire  and  love 
of  sexual  intercourse. 

Expl. — Whether  tliis  desire  for  sexual  intercourse 
be  moderate  or  immoderate  it  is  usual  to  call  it  lust. 

The  live  preceding  passions  have  no  opposites  (as  I 
have  alread}^  stated  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  56).  For 
politeness  or  civility  {modest id)  is  a species  of  ambi- 
tion (r/cZc.  Schol.  to  Pro}:).  29),  and  temperance,  so- 
briety, and  chastity,  as  I have  already  observed,  indi- 
cate i^owers  of  the  soul,  not  passions.  And  although 
it  may  happen  that  an  avaricious,  ambitious,  or  timid 
man  may  abstain  from  all  excess  in  eating,  drinking, 
and  sexual  intercourse,  still  avarice,  ambition,  and 
fear,  are  not  the  opposites  of  luxuriousness,  drunk- 
enness, and  incontinence. t For  the  miser  most  gen- 
♦aully  desires  to  gorge  himself  with  food  and  drink 
])i‘ovided  he  can  do  it  at  the  expense  of  others.  Tin* 

Vide  Cic.  pro  Arcliia,  cap  11. — Gonf.  Tuscul.  disput.  L.  I.  cap.  15. 

f The  original  Amsterdam  and  the  Leipsic  editions  both  read,  “ av- 
aritia  tamen,  ambitio  et  timor  luxuria?,  ebrietati  vel  castitali  non  sunt 
contrarii.”  I have  ventured  to  correct  this  by  reading  incaatiiaii  in- 
stead of  — or,  incontinence  instead  of  continence — Tr. 


208 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


ambitious  man,  too,  if  lie  tliinks  tliere  are  no  wit- 
nesses, will  not  restrain  himself  ; and  if  he  lives 
among*  the  intemperate  and  libidinous,  he  will,  be- 
cause he  is  ambitious,  be  more  inclined  to  the  vices  of 
his  associates.  The  timid  man,  further,  often  does 
what  he  would  rather  not  do.  The  miser,  although 
he  should  cast  his  treasures  into  the  sea  to  escape 
drowning,  would  remain  none  the  less  avaricious ; 
and  if  the  libidinous  is  grieved  because  he  cannot  in- 
dulge his  lusts,  he  remains  none  the  less  libidinous. 
These  passions,  indeed,  do  not  so  much  regard  the 
acts  of  feasting,  drinking,  etc.,  as  they  do  the  appe- 
tites and  likings  themselves  that  lead  to  indulgence. 
There  is,  therefore,  nothing  opposed  to  these  passions 
except  generosity  and  courage,  as  we  shall  show  here- 
after. 

I omit  to  give  definitions  of  Jealousy  {zelotypice) 
and  other  fiuctuations  of  the,  soul,  either  because 
they  arise  from  or  are  compounded  of  ji^ssions  al- 
ready defined,  or  because  they  are  for  the  most  part 
not  distinguished  by  particular  names,  which  shows 
that  it  suffices  for  the  conduct  of  life  to  know  them 
in  a general  way. 

As  to  the  rest,  from  our  definitions  of  the  pas- 
sions and  from  the  explanations  we  have  given, 
it  is  clear  that  they  all  arise  from  desire^  joy^  or 
sorroic,  or  rather  that  they  are  but  these  three  pas- 
sions severally  designated  by  different  names  accord- 
ing to  their  various  relations  and  extrinsic  denomina- 
tions. If  we  will  now  keep  our  attention  fixed  upon 
these  three  primitive  passions  and  what  has  been  said 
above  respecting  the  nature  of  the  soul,  then,  in  so 
far  as  the  affections  or  passions  are  referred  to  the 
soul  alone,  they  may  be  defined  in  the  ^following 
manner : 


PAllT  III. — OF  THE  AFFECTIO'S'S  OR  PASSIOXS.  209 


GENERAL  DEFINITION  OF  THE  PASSIONS. 

The  affection  which  is  characterized  as  a passion  of 
the  sonl  is  a confused  idea  whereby  the  soul  affirms 
that  the  body,  or  some  of  its  parts,  has  a greater  or 
less  power  of  existing  than  it  liad  before,  which 
i:)Ower  being  affirmed  the  sonl  itself  is  determined  to 
think  of  this  or  of  that  thing  rather  than  of  some 
other  thing. 

Explanation. — I say,  ffrst,  that  an  affection  or 
passion  of  the  soul  is  a confused  idea”  ; for  we  have 
shown  {pide  Prop.  3)  that  the  soul  suffers  only  in  so 
far  as  it  has  inadequate  or  confused  ideas.  I say,, 
secondly, — ^’whereby  the  soul  affirms  that  the  body,, 
or  some  of  its  parts,  lias  a greater  or  less  jiower  of 
existing  than  it  had  before.”  For  all  the  ideas  we* 
have  of  bodies  indicate  rather  the  actual  constitution 
of  our  own  body  than  the  nature  of  any  external 
body  (by  Coroll.  2,  Prop.  16,  Part  II.) ; and  these  ideas 
which  constitute  the  essences  or  forms  of  the  affec- 
tions or  passions  must  indicate  or  express  the  consti- 
tution of  the  body  or  of  some  of  its  parts,  whereby 
its  power  of  acting  or  existing  is  augmented  or  di- 
minished, favored  or  restrained.  But  it  is  to  be  noted 
that  when  I say — ‘‘a  greater  or  less  power  of  existing 
than  it  had  before,”  I do  not  mean  that  the  soul  com 
Xiares  the  present  with  the  preceding  constitution  of 
its  body ; but  that  the  idea  which  constitutes  the 
essence  or  form  of  the  affection  or  passion  affirms  of 
the  body  something  which  involves  more  or  less  of 
reality  than  before.  And  inasmuch  as  the  essence  of 
the  soul  consists  (by  Props.  11  and  13,  Part  II.)  in 
that  which  affirms  the  actual  existence  of  the  body, 
and  as  by  the  perfection  of  a thing  we  understand  its- 
essence, — it  therefore  follows  that  the  soul  passes  to> 

14 


210 


spixoza’s  etjiics. 


ii  greater  or  less  state  of  perfection  Avlienever  it  affirms 
of  its  body  or  of  some  of  its  parts  something  wliicli 
involves  a greater  or  less  reality  tlian  that  which  it  or 
they  had  before.  When  I said  above,  therefore,  that 
the  thinking  power  of  the  soul  was  augmented  or  di- 
minished, I only  wished  to  be  understood  that  the  soul 
formed  an  idea  of  its  ])ody  or  of  some  part  or  j^arts  of 
it  Avhich  expressed  more  or  less  of  reality  than  it 
had  previously  affirmed  of  its  body  or  of  some  part  or 
parts  of  the  same.  For  excellence  of  idea  and  actual 
power  of  thought  are  estimated  by  the  excellence  of 
objects.  Lastly,  I added: — ‘Svliich  jiower  being  af- 
lirmed  the  soul  itself  is  determined  to  think  of  this 
or  of  that  thing  rather  than  of  some  other  thing,''  — 
in  order  to  ex^oress  not  merely  the  nature  of  joy  and 
soiTOAV,  which  is  explained  in  the  first  part  of  the  defi- 
nition, but  also  the  nature  of  desire. 


EXD  OF  THE  THIKD  PAIIT. 


ETHICS. 


M 


FOURTH  PART. 

OF  MAN’S  SLAVEHY,  OK  THE  EOKCE 
OE  THE  PASSIONS.^ 


PREFACE, 


Man's  inij)otence  to  moderate  and  control  Ills  af- 
fections or  passions  I call  Slavery.  For  wlien  man  is 
dominated  by  these  lie  is  not  master  of  liimself,  bnt 
is,  as  it  were,  controlled  by  fate,  so  that,  although 
seeing  and  knowing  what  course  is  best,  yet  is  he 
often  forced  to  follow  that  which  is  worst.  I now 
propose,  in  this  Fourth  Part,  to  demonstrate  the 
cause  of  this  slavery,  and  to  point  out  besides  what 
there  is  of  good  and  evil  in  the  affections  or  passions. 
But  before  entering  on  the  task  it  will  be  proper  to 
say  a few  words  on  perfection  and  imperfection^  and 
on  good  and  evil^  by  way  of  preface. 

He  who  proposes  to  construct  a certain  work,  or  to 
do  anything,  and  completes  it,  may  say,  and  not  only 
himself  but  any  one  else  who  rightly  understands  or 

* In  the  Definitions  I.,  II.,  and  III.  and  the  explanation  that  fol- 
lows the  latter,  in  Part  III.  (seepages  126-7),  Spinoza  has  defined  what 
he  understands  by  Passions. — Tr. 


sptnoza’s  ethics. 


'J12 

thinks  he  understands  the  purpose  of  tlie  work  may 
ii.lso  say,  that  it  is  jperfected.  For  example,  if  any 
one  sees  a certain  structure  (which  I will  suppose  is 
not  yet  completed)  and  knows  that  tlie  purpose  of 
tlie  constructor  of  it  is  to  build  a house,  he  will  say 
that  the  house  is  unhnished  or  imi^erfect ; and  on  the 
contrary,  so  soon  as  he  sees  the  work  brought  to  the 
state  of  completeness  proposed  by  its  constructor  he 
will  say  that  it  is  finished  or  jyerfect.  But  if  any  one 
should  see  a work,  the  like  of  which  he  had  never 
seen  before,  and  had  no  knowledge  of  the  j)urpose  of 
its  constructor,  he  could  not  tell  whether  the  work 
was  perfect  or  imperfect.  And  this  appears  to  have 
been  the  first  signification  of  these  words.  But  after 
men  began  to  form  general  ideas,  and  to  contrive  and 
invent  plans  for  houses,  temples,  towers,  etc.,  and  to 
prefer  one  pattern  or  style  to  another,  it  came  to  pass 
that  each  one  called  that  perfect  which  agreed  with 
the  general  idea  he  had  formed  ; and  on  the  contrary, 
he  called  imperfect  that  which  he  saw  did  not  corre- 
spond with  the  pattern  he  had  conceived  or  selected 
as  the  most  perfect,  although  it  was  fully  complete 
according  to  the  plan  of  its  constructor.  IN'or  does 
there  appear  to  be  any  other  reason  why  natural 
things,  things  not  made  by  human  hands,  should 
commonly  be  called  perfect  or  imperfect ; for  men  are 
accustomed  to  form  general  ideas  of  natural  things  as 
well  as  of  things  produced  by  human  art,  which  ideas 
become  to  them  like  models  whicli  nature  itself  (na- 
ture in  their  opinion  doing  nothing  without  an  end  or 
purpose)  they  believe  presents  to  them  as  patterns 
which  they  are  to  regard.  When,  therefore,  they  see 
in  nature  something  which  does  no.t  quite  agree  with 
the  idea  or  pattern  of  the  thing  they  had  conceived, 
they  believe  that  nature  itself  has  failed  or  been  in 


TAKT  IV. — SLAVERY— FOKCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  213 


fault  and  left  tlie  thing  imperfect.  We  tlius  see  that 
men  are  accustomed  to  call  natural  things  perfect  or 
imperfect  from  prejudice  rather  than  from  true  know- 
ledge. But  we  have  shown  in  the  Appendix  to  our 
First  Part  that  nature  does  not  act  for  an  end  ; for 
the  Eternal  and  Infinite  Being  which  we  call  God  or 
Mature,  exists  of  necessity,  and  so  acts  of  necessity. 
And  we  have  shown,  too,  that  by  the  same  necessity 
that  Mature  exists,  by  the  same  necessity  does  it  act 
{mde  Prop.  16,  Part  I.).  The  reason  or  the  cause, 
therefore,  whereby  God  or  Mature  exists  and  acts  is 
one  and  the  same  ; and  as  there  is  no  cause  Avhereby 
God  exists  for  any  certain  purpose  or  end,  so  is  there 
no  cause  whereby  God  acts  for  any  purpose  or  end  ; 
for  as  God  is  without  beginning  or  end  as  regards  ex- 
istence, so  is  God  infinite  and  eternal  as  regards  acts. 
Moav  a final  cause,  as  it  is  called,  is  nothing  more  than 
a human  desire  or  appetite  considered  as  the  begin- 
ning or  first  cause  of  anything.  For  example,  when 
we  say  that  the  final  cause  of  houses  is  the  desire  of 
men  for  habitations,  we  understand  nothing  more 
than  that  man,  having  imagined  that  a house  would 
be  a convenience  for  domestic  life,  has  had  a desire 
to  build  himself  a house.  Wherefore  a habitation,  in 
so  far  as  final  causes  are  considered,  is  nothing  but 
the  effect  of  this  particular  desire  or  appetite,  whicli 
is,  in  fact,  the  efficient  cause  considered  as  the 
primary  cause,  for  men  are  commonly  ignorant  of  the 
causes  of  their  desires.  They  are,  indeed,  as  I hav(» 
often  said  before,  conscious  of  their  appetites  and  ac- 
tions, but  unconscious  of  the  causes  which  determine 
them  to  desire  this  or  that  thing. 

As  to  the  vulgar  belief  that  nature  is  sometimes  at 
fault  and  comes  short  in  its  work,  producing  imper- 
fect things,  I put  that  along  with  the  numerous  other 


'214: 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


prejudices  uiion  which  I have  commented  in  the  Ap- 
pendix to  tlie  First  Part.  Perfection  and  imperfec- 
tion are  in  fact  merely  modes  of  thought,  i.e.,  notions 
Avliich  we  are  accustomed  to  form  by  comparing  indi- 
vidual things  of  the  same  genus  or  species  witii  one 
another  ; and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  I have  said 
{ Def . 6,  Part  II.)  that  by  reality  ^ml])erfection  I under- 
stand one  and  the  same  thing.  AVe  are  Avont,  in- 
deed, to  refer  all  the  individual  things  in  nature  to 
one  genus,  which  we  speak  of  as  universal  or  most 
general,  to  Avit : to  the  notion  of  heing  or  entity  AAdiich 
belongs  .absolutely  to  all  the  indiAuduals  in  nature. 
In  so  far  therefore  as  Ave  refer  the  individual  things 
constituting  nature  at  large  to  this  one  genus,  and  as 
Ave  com]3are  them  aa  ith  one  another  and  find  that  one 
has  more  of  being  or  reality  than  another,  Ave  say  of 
that  one  that  it  has  more  of  perfection  than  another  ; 
and  in  so  far  as  AA-e  ascribe  to  a certain  individual 
Thing  something  AAdiich  involves  negation — such  as 
limitation,  termination,  impotence,  etc., — in  so  far  do 
we  call  it  imperfect,  for  the  reason  that  it  does  not 
affect  our  minds  in  the  same  manner  as  those  AA^e  call 
perfect,  and  not  because  it  lacks  or  is  deficient  in  any- 
thing that  properly  belongs  to  it,  or  that  nature  has 
failed  in  its  Avork.  For  nothing  belongs  to  the  nature 
of  anything  saAm  that  Avhich  folloAvs  from  the  neces- 
sity inherent  in  the  nature  of  its  efficient  cause ; and 
whatsoever  follows  from  the  nature  of  an  efficient 
cause  folloAA^s  necessarily. 

The  terms  good  and  e?r/Z,  as  applied  to  things  con- 
sidered in  themselves,  do  not  indicate  anything  posi- 
tive in  their  nature  ; they  are  nothing  more  than 
modes  of  thought  or  notions  AAdiich  Ave  form  from 
comparisons  of  things  AAdth  one  another.  For  one  and 
the  same  thing  may  be  at  the  same  time  both  good 


PAKT  IV.— SLxVVEKY— FOKCE  OF  THE  PASSIOI^S.  215 


and  evil,  or  it  may  be  indifferent.  Lively  music,  for 
example,  may  be  good  to  a melancholy  person,  bad  to 
one  Avlio  mourns,  and  neither  good  nor  bad  to  one 
who  is  deaf.  But  although  this  be  the  case,  we  must 
nevertheless  retain  these  words  in  our  vocabulary ; 
for  desiring  to  form  to  ourselves  the  idea  of  a man  as 
an  exemplar  of  human  nature,  as  we  may  see  or  ap- 
])rehend  it,  Ave  sliall  find  it  useful  to  employ  these 
words  in  the  sense  attached  to  them.  By  cfoocl^  there- 
fore, in  AAdiat  follows  I shall  understand  that  Avhich 
we  know  for  certain  is  a means  of  approaching  more 
and  more  closely  to  the  exemplar  which  we  wish  to 
hold  up  ; and  by  eml^  that  which  Ave  knoAA-  for  certain 
to  be  a hindrance  to  the  attainment  of  our  exemplar. 
Furthermore,  Av^e  shall  speak  of  men  as  more  or  less 
perfect  and  imperfect  in  the  degree  that  they  approach 
more  or  less  near  to  our  exemplar.  For  it  is  to  be 
})articularly  observed,  that  AAdien  I say  of  any  one 
that  he  passes  from  a less  to  a higher  degree  of  j)er- 
fection,  and  mce  mrsd^  I do  not  understand  that  he 
changes  from  one  being  or  form  into  another  (a  horse, 
for  instance,  Avhether  changed  into  a man  or  an  insect, 
Avould  in  either  case  cease  to  be  a horse),  but  rather 
that  Ave  conceive  his  poAver  of  action,  in  so  far  as  aa^c 
apprehend  this  from  his  proper  nature,  to  be  increased 
or  diminished.  Lastly,  I shall,  as  I liaA^e  said,  un- 
derstand by  perfection,  reality  in  general, — in  other 
Avords,  the  essence  of  each  particular  thing  in  so  far 
as  it  exists  and  acts  in  certain  AAmys,  and  AAuthout 
reference  to  its  duration.  For  no  particular  thing 
(^an  be  said  to  be  more  perfect  by  reason  of  its  con- 
tinuing a longer  time  in  existence  than  another,  inas- 
much as  the  duration  of  things  cannot  be  determined 
from  their  essence, — the  essence  of  things  involving 
no  certain  and  definite  time  of  existence ; but  each 


216 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


particular  tiling,  be  it  more  or  less  perfect,  will  al- 
ways persevere  in  its  existence  with  the  same  power 
as  that  with  Avhich  it  began  to  exist,  so  that  in  this 
respect  all  things  are  equal. 

DEFINITIONS. 

I.  By  good  I understand  that  which  we  know  for 
certain  to  be  useful  to  us. 

II.  eml  I understand  that  Avhicli  we  know  foi- 
certain  to  be  a hindrance  to  our  enjojdng  something 
good. 

In  relation  to  these  two  definitions  see  the  latter 
part  of  the  preceding  preface. 

III.  Individual  things  I call  contingent  \\\  so  far  as, 
their  essence  only  being  considered,  nothing  appears 
that  necessarily  asserts  their  existence  or  that  neces- 
sarily excludes  it. 

IV.  Those  individual  things,  again,  I call  gjossibte 
in  so  far  as,  while  considering  the  causes  by  which 
they  must  be  produced,  we  do  not  know  that  these 
causes  are  themselves  so  determined  as  to  produce 
them. 

In  Schol.  1 to  Prop.  33,  Part  I.,  I have  made  no  dis- 
tinction between  the  contingent  and  the  %f0ssible^  be- 
cause it  was  not  then  and  there  necessary  to  distin- 
guish them  accurately  from  each  other. 

Y.  By  contrary  or  opjposite  affections^  in  what  fol- 
lows I understand  those  affections  or  passions  which, 
although  they  are  of  the  same  genus,  constrain  men 
to  act  in  opposite  ways  ; for  instance— luxury  and 
avarice,  which  are  sx)ecies  of  love,  are  not  contraries 
by  nature  but  by  accident. 

VI.  What  I understand  by  an  affection  or  i^a.ssion 
.as  regards  things  jiast,  present,  or  future,  I have 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  217 


already  exiilained  in  Scholia  1 and  2 to  Prop.  18,  Part 
III.,  which  see. 

But  here  I have  further  to  remark  that  as  regards 
distance  of  place,  as  well  as  of  time,  we  are  only  able 
to  imagine  distance  distinctly  within  certain  limits, — 
that  is  to  say,  as  objects  which  are  distant  more  than 
two  hundred  feet  from  us  or  from  the  place  we  occupy 
are  at  a distance  beyond  that  which  we  can  distinctly 
imagine,  they  are  all  wont  to  be  imagined  by  us  to  be 
about  equally  remote,  and  as  if  they  were  in  the  same 
plane  ; so  also  are  objects  the  interval  between  whose 
time  of  existence  and  the  present  time  is  longer  than 
we  are  accustomed  to  imagine  or  can  imagine  dis- 
tinctly, imagined  to  be  all  about  equally  remote  from 
the  present,  and  are  referred  as  it  Avere  to  a single 
moment  of  time. 

YII.  By  the  end  or  jpurpose  on  account  of  Avhich 
we  do  anything  I understand  appetite  or  desire. 

YIII.  By  mrtue  and  poieer  I understand  one  and 
the  same  thing  ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.), 
virtue,  as  referred  to  man,  is  the  A^ery  essence  or 
nature  of  man,  in  so  far  as  he  possesses  the  poAver  of 
doing  certain  things  which  can  be  understood  by  the 
laAvs  of  his  OA\m  nature  alone. 


AXIOM. 


There  is  not  in  nature  any  individual  thing  that  is 
not  surpassed  by  others  more  poAverful  and  stronger 
than  itself.  So  that,  given  AvhateA^er  poAverful  thing, 
there  is  also  given  others  by  AAdiich  it  can  be  de- 
stroyed. 


218 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


PROPOSITIOXS. 

PROP.  I. — Xotliiiig  positive,  so  far  as  true,  con- 
tained in  a false  idea,  is  destroyed  Py  the 
presence  of  triitli. 

Demonstk. — Falsity  consists  solely  in  the  privation 
of  true  knowledge  which  inadequate  ideas  involve 
(by  Prop.  35,  Part  II.),  nor  do  such  ideas  contain 
anything  positive  by  reason  of  Avhich  they  are  called 
false  (by  Prop.  33,  Part  II.) ; but  on  the  contraiy,  in 
so  far  as  they  are  referred  to  God  they  are  true  (by 
Prop.  32,  Part  II.).  If,  therefore,  what  a false  idea 
has  in  it  of  positive  were,  in  so  far  as  true,  destroyed 
by  the  presence  of  truth,  a true  idea  would  be  de- 
stroyed by  itself,  which  (by  Prop.  4,  Part  III.)  is  ab- 
surd. Therefore,  nothing  positive  contained  in  a false 
idea,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — This  proposition  is  more  clearly  under- 
stood by  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  16,  Part  II.  For  imagina- 
tion is  an  idea  which  rather  indicates  the  present  con- 
stitution of  the  human  body  than  the  nature  of  an 
external  body, — not,  indeed,  distinctly,  but  con- 
fusedly ; — whence  it  comes  that  the  mind  or  soul  is 
said  to  err.  For  example,  when  we  look  at  the  sun 
we  imagine  it  to  be  about  t^xo  hundred  paces  distant 
from  us,  in  which  we  deceive  ourselves  so  long  as  we 
are  ignorant  of  its  true  distance ; this  being  known 
the  error  is  destroyed,  but  not  the  imagination,  that 
is,  not  the  idea  of  the  sun,  which  explains  its  nature 
only  in  so  far  as  our  body  is  affected  by  the  sun  ; so 
that  although  we  know  the  true  distance  of  the  sun 
we  nevertheless  continue  to  imagine  it  as  near  to  us. 
For  as  we  have  said  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  35,  Part 
II.,  we  do  not  imagine  the  sun’s  proximity  to  us  be- 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  219 


cause  we  are  ignorant  of  its  true  distance,  bnt  because 
the  mind  conceives  the  magnitude  of  the  sun  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  manner  in  which  the  body  is 
affected  by  it.  Thus,  when  the  rays  of  the  sun  fall 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water  and  are  reflected  from 
it  to  our  eyes,  we  imagine  the  sun  as  if  it  were  really 
in  or  on  the  water,  although  Ave  knoAv  perfectly  well 
that  its  true  place  is  really  in  the  heavens.  And  so  of 
the  other  imaginations  by  Avhicli  the  soul  is  deceived, 
Avhicli,  whether  they  indicate  the  natural  constitution 
of  the  body,  or  the  increase  or  diminution  of  its  power 
of  action,  are  not  contrary  to  the  truth  and  do  not 
vanisii  in  its  presence.  It  happens,  indeed,  that  AAdien 
we  erroneously  fear  some  evil,  the  fear  vanishes  as 
soon  as  the  truth  is  ascertained  ; but,  on  the  contraiy, 
it  also  happens  Avhen  Ave  fear  an  evil  that  aauII  surely 
befall  us,  that  the  fear  of  it  may  Amnish  AAdien  Ave  hear 
false  neAvs.  Imaginations  therefore  do  not  Amnish  in 
the  presence  of  truth  as  truth,  but  because  other 
things  occur  AAdiich  are  stronger  than  they,  and  Avhich 
exclude  the  present  existence  of  the  things  imagined, 
as  AA-e  have  shoAvn  in  Prop.  17,  Part  II. 

PROP.  II. — We  suffer  in  so  far  as  ^ye  are  a part 
of  nature,  AA  liich  part  cannot  be  conceived 
by  itself  independently  of  other  parts. 

Deaioxstr. — We  are  said  to  suffer  AAdien  anything 
arises  in  us  of  Avhich  AA^e  ourselves  are  only  jiartially 
the  cause  (by  Del  2,  Part  III.),  that  is  (by  Def.  1, 
Part  III.),  anything  AAdiich  cannot  be  deduced  from 
the  hiAvs  of  our  nature  alone.  We  suffer,  therefore, 
in  so  far  as  Ave  are  a iiart  of  nature,  Avhich  part  cannot 
be  conceived  by  itself  indejiendently  of  other  parts. 

Q.  E.  D. 


220 


SPINOZA'S  I^TIirCS. 


PllOP.  III. — The  force  by  wliich  man  perse- 
veres in  liis  existence  is  limited,  and  tli(‘ 
power  of  external  causes  intinitel}^  sur- 
passes it. 

Demonstp.— This  appears  by  tlie  preceding  Axiom. 
For,  given  a man,  tliere  is  something  else  given,  say 
A,  more  powerful  than  he  ; and  A being  given,  there 
is  something  else  given,  say  B,  more  powerful  tlian 
A ; and  so  on  to  inhnity  ; — thus  consequently  is  the 
power  of  man  limited  by  some  other  thing,  and  infi- 
nitely surpassed  by  the  power  of  exteiliaF  causes. 
Q.  E.  1). 

PKOP.  IV. — It  is  impossible  that  man  should 
not  be  a part  of  nature,  and  that  he  can 
suffer  no  changes  except  those  which  may 
be  understood  by  his  nature  alone  and  of 
which  his  nature  is  tlie  adequate  cause. 

Demonstk. — The  power  by  which  individual  things, 
and  consequently  men,  preserve  their  being,  is  the 
very  power  of  God  or  Vature  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  24, 
Part  I.),  not  as  it  is  infinite,  but  in  so  far  as  it  can  be 
explained  by  the  actual  essence  of  man  (by  Prop.  7, 
Part  III.).  The  power  of  man,  therefore,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  exxfiained  by  his  own  actual  essence,  is  part  ol' 
the  infinite  power  of  God  or  Vature, — that  is  to  say 
(by  Prop.  84,  Part  I.),  of  the  essence  of  God.  This  in 
the  first  place.  In  the  second  place,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble that  a man  could  suffer  no  changes  except  those 
whicli  may  be  understood  by  his  nature  alone,  it 
would  follow  (by  Props.  4 and  6,  Part  III.)  that  he 
could  not  perish,  but  must  necessarily  exist  for  ever  ; 
and  this  would  follow  from  a cause  the  power  of 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY- -FOPCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  221 

whicli  was  eitlier  finite  or  infinite,  viz.  : either  from 
the  sole  x)ovver  of  man,  which  would  therefore  be 
capable  of  XDreventing  other  changes  that  might  arise 
from  external  causes, — or  else  from  the  infinite  power 
of  N^ature  by  which  all  things  were  so  ordered  that 
man  could  suffer  no  other  changes  save  those  which 
tended  to  his  preservation.  But  the  first  of  these 
suppositions  is  absurd  (by  x)i’^ceding  Prop,  the  de- 
monstration of  which  is  universal  and  apx)licable  to 
all  individual  things).  Therefore  if  it  were  possible 
that  man  should  suffer  no  other  changes  than  those 
which  can  be  understood  by  his  x)roi3er  nature  alone, 
and  consequently  (as  we  have  shown)  that  he  should 
necessarily  exist  for  ever,  this  must  follow  from  the 
infinite  jiower  of  God,  and  therefore  (by  Proj).  16, 
Part  I.)  would  have  to  be  deduced  from  the  necessity 
of  the  Divine  nature  in  so  far  considered  as  affected 
by  the  idea  of  a jiarticidar  man,  and  the  order  of  all 
Nature  in  so  far  as  it  is  conceived  under  the  attri- 
})utes  of  Thought  and  Extension.  And  so  it  would 
follow  (by  Prop.  21,  Part  I.)  that  man  is  infinite, 
which  (by  the  first  part  of  this  Demonstration)  is 
absurd.  It  is  therefore  impossible  that  man  should 
suffer  no  other  changes  save  those  of  Avhich  he  is  him- 
self the  adequate  cause,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  man  is  necessarily 
always  subject  to  xiassions,  that  he  must  follow  the 
(‘onimon  order  of  Nature,  obey  it,  and  even  accommo- 
date himself  to  it,  to  the  extent  required  by  the 
nature  of  things. 


I^ROP.  Y. — The  force  and  increment  of  eaeli 
Xiassion  and  its  x^erseverance  in  existence 
are  not  to  be  exxdained  or  defined  by  the 


222 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


power  Avliereby  avc  striAC  to  continue  in 
our  state  of  being,  but  by  the  j)oaa  er  of  an 
external  cause  as  com])ared  aa  itli  our  oaa  ii 
poAAcr. 

Deaioxstk. — The  essence  of  a passion  cannot  be  ex- 
plained by  our  OAA^n  essence  alone  (by  Defs.  1 and  2, 
Part  III.) ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.),  the 
])ower  of  a passion  cannot  be  defined  or  explained  by 
the  poAA^er  of  the  effort  AA^e  make  to  persevere  in  being, 
but  (as  shoAAUi  in  Prop.  16,  Part  II.)  it  must  necessa- 
rily be  defined  by  the  poAver  of  an  external  cause  as 
compared  Avith  our  OAvn  poAver.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  VI. — The  force  of  a passion  or  atfection 
may  so  far  surpass  that  of  the  other  poAA  ers 
or  actions  of  a man  that  the  atfection  shall 
adhere  pertinaciously  to  him. 

Deaioxstr. — The  force  and  groAvth  of  eA^ery  passion 
and  its  perseverance  in  existence  are  defined  by  the 
poAver  of  external  causes  as  compared  Avith  our  oavii 
poAver  (by  preceding  Prop.),  and  therefore  (by  Prop. 
8)  may  surpass  the  poAA^er  of  man.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  VII. — An  afitection  or  passion  can 
neither  be  restrained  nor  destroyed  except 
by  a contrary  and  stronger  atfection  coerc- 
ing it. 

Deaioxste. — An  affection  or  passion  in  so  far  as 
it  is  referred  to  the  soul,  is  an  idea  by  AAdiich  the  soul 
affirms  a greater  or  less  poAver  of  existence  of  its  oaaui 
body  than  it  had  before  (by  the  general  definition  of 
the  Passions  at  the  end  of  the  Third  Part).  When 


PART  IV.  — SLAVERA^ — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  228 

the  soul  therefore  is  agitated  by  any  affection,  the 
body  is  simultaneously  affected  by  an  affection  which 
augments  or  diminishes  its  power  of  action.  More- 
over, this  corporeal  alfection  (by  Prop.  5)  received 
from  its  cause  its  power  to  persevere  in  its  being, 
and  this  power  therefore  can  neither  be  restrained 
nor  destroyed  except  by  a corporeal  cause  (b}^  Prop.  4, 
Part  III.)  affecting  the  body  with  a contrary  (by  Prop, 
o.  Part  III.)  and  stronger  affection  (by  Axiom,  this 
Part).  In  this  way  (by  Prop.  12,  Part  II.)  the  soul  is  af- 
fected by  an  idea  of  a stronger  affection  contrary  to  the 
prior  one, — that  is  to  say  (by  gen.  def.  Pass.),  the  soul  is 
affected  by  an  affection  opposed  to  and  more  power- 
ful than  the  prior  one,  and  which  therefore  secludes 
or  destroys  its  existence ; and  hence  a passion  or 
affection  can  neither  be  restrained  nor  destroyed  ex- 
cept by  a contrary  and  stronger  affection,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — An  affection,  in  so  far  as  it  is  referred 
to  the  soul,  can  neither  be  restrained  nor  destroyed 
except  by  the  idea  of  a contrary  and  stronger  affec- 
tion of  the  body  than  the  one  then  suffered.  For  an 
affection  which  we  suffer  can  neither  be  suppressed 
nor  destroyed  except  by  a contrary  and  stronger 
affection  (by  preceding  Prop.),  that  is  (by  the  general 
definition  of  the  Passions),  except  by  the  idea  of  an 
affection  of  the  body  contrary  to  and  stronger  than 
the  affection  previously  suffered. 

PROP.  Till. — The  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil  is  nothing  niore  than  an  affection  of 
joy  or  of  sorrow,  in  so  far  as  we  ourselves 
are  conscious  of  the  same. 

Dewoxstr. — We  call  that  good  or  evil  which  favors 
or  liinders  the  conservation  of  our  being  (by  Defs.  1 


224 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


jind  2)  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.),  wliicli  augments 
or  diminislies,  assists  or  opposes  our  power  of  action. 
In  so  far  therefore  (by  Def.  of  Joy  and  Sorrow,  which 
see  in  the  Scliol.  to  Prop.  11,  Part  III.)  as  we  perceive 
that  anytliing  affects  us  with  joy  or  sorrow,  we  call  it 
good  or  evil  ; consequently  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil  is  nothing  other  than  the  idea  of  joy  or 
sorrow  which  necessarily  follows  from  the  affection 
itself  of  joy  or  sorrow  (by  Prop.  22,  Part  II.).  But  tliis 
idea  is  united  with  the  affection  in  the  same  way  as  the 
soul  is  united  with  the  body  (by  Prop.  21,  Part  II.)  ; 
tliat  is  to  say  (as  shown  in  the  Schol.  to  same  Prop.), 
this  idea  of  the  affection  is  not  really  distinguished 
from  the  affection  itself,  or  (by  gen.  def.  of  the  Pas- 
sions) from  the  idea  of  the  affection  of  the  body,  save 
in  the  conception  alone.  Therefore  this  knowledge 
of  good  and  evil  is  nothing  other  than  the  affection 
of  joy  or  of  sorrow  itself,  in  so  far  as  we  are  conscious 
of  it.  Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  IX. — The  affection  or  passion  the  cause 
of  Avhicli  we  imagine  as  present  to  iis  is 
stronger  than  one  of  which  the  cause  is  not 
imagined  as  present. 

Demonste. — Imagination  is  an  idea  by  which  the 
soul  contemi^lates  a thing  as  present  {mde  the  Defini- 
tion of  Imagination  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.),  but 
which  idea,  however,  rather  indicates  the  constitution 
of  the  human  body  than  the  nature  of  the  external 
thing  (by  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  16,  Part  II.).  Imagination, 
therefore  (by  gen.  def.  of  the  Passions),  is  an  affec- 
tion in  so  far  as  it  indicates  the  condition  or  constitu- 
tion of  the  body.  But  the  imagination  (by  Prop.  17, 
Part  II.)  is  most  vivid  so  long  as  we  imagine  nothing 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  905 


that  excludes  tlie  present  existence  of  an  external 
thing.  Wherefore  also  the  affection  or  passion  Avhose 
cause  we  imagine  to  be  present  to  us  is  stronger  or 
more  intense  than  it  would  be  if  its  cause  was 
imagined  not  to  be  present,  q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — When  I said  in  Prop.  18,  Part  III.,  that 
the  image  of  a thing  past  or  to  come  affected  us  in 
the  same  degree  as  the  image  of  a thing  present 
affected  us,  I expresslj^  stated  that  this  was  true  in 
so  far  as  we  gave  attention  to  the  image  only  of  th(‘ 
thing  itself  (for  that  image  is  of  the  same  natur(‘ 
whether  we  have  imagined  the  thing  or  not).  But  I 
have  not  denied  that  the  imagination  is  rendered 
weaker  Avlien  we  contemplate  other  things  as  present 
to  us  which  exclude  the  ])resent  existence  of  a futun' 
thing, — a point  I then  neglected  to  notice,  as  it  related 
to  the  force  of  the  affections  or  ])assions  which  I de- 
signed to  treat  of  in  this  Part. 

Cop.oLL. — The  image  of  a thing  futui-e  or  ])ast,  that 
is  to  sajg  of  a thing  which  we  contemplate  with  rela- 
tion to  a future  or  past  time  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
time  ])resent,  is,  other  things  being  equal,  weaker 
than  the  image  of  a thing  present ; and  consequently 
an  affection  in  respect  of  a thing  past  or  to  come,  is^ 
other  things  being  equal,  feebler  than  the  affection 
connected  with  a thing  jtresent. 

PROP.  X. — We  are  more  intensely  alfeeted  in 
respect  of  a future  thing  or  event  which  we 
imagine  to  be  close  at  hand,  than  in  respect 
of  a thing  or  event  the  time  of  whose  oe- 
eiirrcnee  Ave  imagine  Avill  be  far  distant 
from  the  present  time ; and  Ave  are  also 
more  strongly  affected  by  the  recollection 

15 


220 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


of  a thing  wliicli  avo  iuiagiiic  as  liaviiig  oc- 
curred but  recently,  than  avc  are  hy  tlie 
nieinory  of  a thing  Avhich  aa  e iniaginc  as 
haying  happened  yory  long  ago. 

Deaionstr. — For  in  imagining  anything  that  Avill 
hapjien  soon,  or  that  liappened  not  long  ago,  Ave 
imagine  (as  is  self-evident)  that  Avhich  less  excludes 
the  presence  of  the  thing  so  imagined  than  if  the 
time  of  its  occurrence  was  imagined  as  far  distant  in 
the  future  or  as  long  ago  in  the  past ; and  so  (by  pre- 
ceding Prop.)  are  Ave  more  intensely  affected  in  re- 
sjiect  of  things  AAdiich  have  recently  happened  or 
Avhich  Avill  soon  happen,  q.  e.  n. 

ScitOL. — From  Avhat  AA^e  remarked  after  Def.  6 of 
this  Part,  it  folloAvs  that  Ave  are  also  less  poAverfully 
affected  in  respect  of  objects  distant  from  the  present 
time  by  a longer  interval  than  Ave  can  determine  by 
our  imagination,  although  Ave  may  comprehend  that 
those  objects  are  themselves  separated  from  one  an- 
other by  very  long  intervals  of  time. 

PKOP.  XI.— The  affection  in  respect  of  a thing 
that  Ave  imagine  as  necessary,  is,  other 
things  being  equal,  more  intense  than  in 
respect  of  that  Avhicli  is  possible  or  contin- 
gent, in  other  Avords,  not  necessary. 

Deaionstp. — In  so  far  as  Ave  imagine  anything  to  be 
necessary,  in  so  far  do  Ave  affirm  its  existence  ; and 
on  the  contrary,  in  so  far  as  Ave  imagine  a thing  as 
not  necessary  Ave  deny  its  existence  (by  Schol.  1 .to 
Prop.  33,  Part  I.) ; and  hence  (by  Pro]^.  9)  an  affection 
in  respect  of  a thing  that  is  necessary,  is,  other  things 


PART  IV.— SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  227 


being  equal,  more  intense  than  it  is  in  respect  of  a 
thing-  not  necessary,  q.  e.  o. 

PKOP.  Xri. — An  affection  in  respect  of  a thing 
Avhieli  Ave  knoAV  does  not  exist  at  present 
and  A\hich  Ave  imagine  as  i)ossible,  is, 
other  things  being  equal,  more  intense 
than  an  attection  in  respect  of  a contin- 
gent thing. 

Demoxstr. — In  so  far  as  Ave  imagine  a thing  as  con- 
tingent, Ave  are  affected  by  the  image  of  no  other 
thing  that  affirms  its  existence  (by  Def.  ‘S),  but  on  the 
contrary  (according  to  the  liypotliesis),  AA'e  imagimi 
things  that  exclude  its  present  existence.  But  in  as 
far  as  AA^e  imagine  a thing  to  be  possible  in  the  fat  are, 
in  so  far  do  Ave  imagine  things  that  assert  its  existence 
(by  Dei.  4) ; that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  18,  Part  III.), 
things  that  lead  ns  to  hope  or  fear  ; so  that  an  affec- 
tion in  respect  of  a possible  thing  is  more  intense, 
etc.  Q.  E.  D. 

Coroll. — An  affection  in  respect  of  a thing  AAiiich 
AA'e  knoAA'  does  not  exist  at  present  and  AAiiich  ^ye 
imagine  to  be  contingent,  is  much  more  feeble  than  it 
is  of  a thing  Avhich  \ve  imagine  as  being  present  to  ns. 

Deaioxstr. — An  affection  in  respect  of  a thing 
AAiiich  AA'e  imagine  to  exist  at  present,  is  more  intense 
than  if  AA^e  imagine  it  as  in  tlie  near  future  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  9),  and  much  more  Amhement  than  if  aam 
imagine  it  as  in  the  future  far  distant  from  the 
present  time  (by  Prop.  10).  Consequent!}^  an  affec- 
tion in  respect  of  a thing  Avhose  time  of  existence  we 
imagine  to  be  very  remote  from  the  present,  is  much 
more  feeble  than  if  the  same  thing  be  imagined  as 


223 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


present ; and  yet  (by  preceding-  Prop.)  it  is  more  in- 
tense than  if  the  thing  be  imagined  as  contingent. 
Therefore  is  the  affection  in  respect  of  a contingent 
thing  much  more  feeble  than  it  is  of  a thing  imagined 
as  existing  and  present  to  ns.  Q.  e.  d. 

l^ROP.  XIII. — An  affection  in  respect  of  a con- 
tingent thing  which  we  knoAY  does  not  ex- 
ist at  present,  is,  other  things  being  equal, 
more  feeble  than  an  affection  in  respect  of 
a thing  past. 

Demoxstr. — In  so  far  as  we  imagine  a thing  as 
('ontingent  we  are  affected  by  the  image  of  no  other 
thing  which  affirms  its  existence  (by  Def.  3).  On  the 
contrary  (according  to  the  hypothesis),  we  imagine 
some  things  which  exclude  the  present  existence  of 
the  contingent  thing  in  question.  But  in  so  far  as  we 
imagine  a thing  in  relation  to  a time  past,  so  far  are 
we  supposed  to  imagine  something  which  recalls  that 
thing  to  our  memory,  or  which  excites  in  us  an  image 
of  it  {vide  Prop.  18,  Part  II.,  with  its  Schol.),  and  so 
brings  ns  to  contemplate  it  as  if  it  were  present  (by 
'Ooroll.  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.).  Therefore  (b}^  Prop.  9) 
will  an  affection  in  respect  of  a contingent  thing 
v/hich  we  know  does  not  exist  at  present,  other  things 
being  equal,  be  more  feeble  than  in  respect  of  a thing 
which  has  existed  in  the  past.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XIV. — True  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
considered  in  so  far  as  it  is  true,  can  re- 
strain no  affection  ; but  only  in  so  far  as  it 
is  considered  as  an  affection. 

Demonstr. — An  affection  is  an  idea  by  which  the 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASS  10 XS.  22d 


soul,  affirms  (by  gen.  clef,  of  tlie  Passions)  a greatei- 
or  less  power  of  existence  in  its  body  than  it  pos- 
sessed before  ; and  therefore  (by  Prop.  1)  has  nothing 
])ositive  in  it  that  can  destroy  the  presence  of  tin' 
true;  and  consequently  true  knowledge  of  good  nnd 
evil,  in  so  far  as  true,  can  restrain  or  coerce  no  affec- 
tion. But  in  so  far  as  this  knowledge  is  itself  an 
affection  (vide  Prop.  8),  if  it  be  stronger  than  the  affec- 
tion to  be  controlled,  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  7)  will  it  be 
able  to  restrain  or  coerce  that  affection,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  Xy. — The  desire  wliicdi  arises  from  true 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil  may  be  re- 
strained or  suppressed  by  many  other  de- 
sires Avhieh  arise  from  the  passions  or 
affections  by  whicli  we  are  agitated. 

De.voxstr. — From  true  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  in  so  far  as  it  is  an  affection  (by  Prop.  8),  desire 
necessarily  arises  (by  Del  1 of  the  Passions),  and  is 
great  in  proportion  as  the  affe(dion  out  of  Avhich  it 
arises  is  great  (by  Prop.  37,  Part  III.).  But  as  this 
desire  (by  liypothesis)  arises  from  our  apprehending 
something  as  true,  it  therefore  follows  that  it  has  its 
source  within  ourselves  in  so  far  as  we  act  (b}^  Prop. 
3,  Part  III.) ; and  therefore  it  must  be  understood 
through  our  own  essence  alone  (by  Def.  2,  Part  III.) ; 
and  consequently  (by  Proj).  7,  Part  III.)  its  force  and 
growth  must  be  defined  by  human  i^ower  alone. 
More(3ver,  the  desires  Avhich  arise  from  the  passions 
or  affections  by  which' we  are  agitated  are  by  so  much 
the  greater  as  these  affections  are  more  veliement  ; 
and  consequently  their  force  and  growth  (by  Prop.  5) 
must  be  defined  by  the  power  of  external  causes, 
which  if  compared  with  our  own  power  indefinitely 


280 


sptxoza’s  ethics. 


surpasses  it  (by  Prop.  8) ; and  thus  the  desire  vrliicli 
may  ai'ise  from  such  affections  or  passions  may  be 
more  veliement  than  that  which  arises  fi'oni  true 
Ivuowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and  may  tberefore  (by 
Prop.  7)  be  capable  of  restraining  or  suppressing 

it.  Q.  E.  D. 

PlvOP.  XVI. — Tlie  desire  wliieh  arises  from 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  in  so  far  as 
this  knowledge  lias  regard  to  the  future, 
may  be  more  easily  restrained  or  sup- 
pressed hy  the  desire  of  things  present 
that  are  agreeable  to  ns. 

De-^ioxstu. — An  affection  in  respect  of  a tiling 
which  we  imagine  as  future  is  feebler  than  in  respect 
of  a thing  present  (by  Cor  oil.  to  Prop.  9).  But  the 
desire  which  arises  from  true  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  although  this  knowledge  concerns  things  pre- 
sent that  are  agreeable  lo  us,  may  be  turned  aside, 
restrained,  or  suppressed  by  some  casual  desire  (by 
preceding  Prop.,  the  demonstration  of  which  is 
general).  Therefore  the  desire  that  arises  from  this 
knowledge,  in  so  far  as  it  has  regard  to  the  fu- 
ture, may  be  more  easily  restrained  or  suppressed, 
etc.  Q.  E.  n. 

PPOP.  XVII. — The  desire  which  arises  from 
true  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  in  so  far 
as  it  coneerns  contingent  things,  may  be 
turned  aside  and  much  more  easily  re- 
strained by  the  desire  of  things  present. 

Demoxste. — This  proposition  is  demonstrated  in 


PAPwT  IV. — SLAVEEY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  231 


the  same  way  as  the  preceding  proposition  by  tin' 
Corollary  to  Prop.  12. 

SciioL. — In  Avhut  precedes  I believe  I have  shown 
wliy  men  are  more  influenced  by  opinion  than  by 
sound  I'eason  ; and  why  true  knowledge  ot*  good  and 
evil  excites  emotions  in  the  sonl  and  often  gives  Avay 
to  all  kinds  of  sensualities  ; hence  a great  poet  says  : 

“ Vileo  meliora,  proboqus,- deteriora  sequor.” 

And  the  same  idea  seems  to  have  been  also  in  the 
mind  ot*  Ecclesiastes  when  he  said:  "‘He  that  in- 
creaseth  knowledge,  increaseth  sorrow."  f 

But  I do  not  mean  to  say  by  this,  or  to  have  it  in- 
ferred, that  it  is  better  to  be  ignorant  than  to  have 
knowledge,  or  that  in  the  power  of  moderating  their 
passions  there  is  no  difference  between  a fool  and  a 
wise  man.  I only  speak  of  it  because  it  is  necessary 
that  we  should  know  the  strength  as  well  as  the 
weakness  of  our  nature,  in  order  to  determine  what 
reason  can  do  and  Avhat  it  cannot  do  in  moderating 
onr  passions.  But  in  this  Fourth  .Part  my  purpose 
is,  as  I have  said,  to  speak  only  of  man’s  impotence, 
for  it  is  my  design  to  treat  separately  of  the  power 
of  reason  over  the  passions. 

PIIOP.  XYIII. — The  desire  that  arises  from 
joy  is  stronger,  other  things  being  equal, 
than  tliat  which  arises  from  sorrow. 

Demoxstr. — Desire  is  the  veiy  essence  of  man  (by 
1 Def.  of  Passions)  ; in  other  words  (by  Prop.  7,  Part 
III.),  of  the  effort  man  makes  to  continue  in  his  state 

* Ovid.,  Metam.  VII.  2. — “We  see  and  approve  the  right,  but  yet 
the  wrong  pursue.” 
f Ecclesiastes,  chap.  I.,  v,  18. 


282 


81’IXOZA’s  ethics. 


of  being.  AVherefore  the  desire  that  arises  from  joy 
is  assisted  and  increased  by  the  joyful  emotion  itself 
(by  Def.  of  Joy,  which  see  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  11,  Part 
ITT.) ; but  on  tlie  contrary,  the  desire  that  arises  from 
sorrow  is  diminished  or  restrained  by  the  sorrowful 
(unotion  itself  (by  same  Schol.).  Consequently  tlu‘ 
force  of  the  desire  that  arises  from  joy  must  be  de- 
fined by  human  power  and  at  the  same  time  by  tlni 
])ower  of  external  causes  ; Avhilst  the  force  of  the  de- 
sire that  arises  from  sorrow  must  be  defined  ])y 
human  power  alone  ; hence  it  follows  that  the  desire 
that  arises  from  joy  is  stronger  than  that  which  arises 
from  sorrow,  q.  e.  d. 

Schol. — In  the  above  brief  expositions  I explain 
the  causes  of  human  impotencyand  inconstancy,  and 
Avhy  men  do  not  observe  the  precepts  of  reason.  It 
noAv  remains  for  me  to  show  Avhat  reason  j)rescribes 
to  ns,  and  to  indicate  Avhat  passions  or  affections 
accord  Avith  the  laAvs  of  human  reason,  and  Avhich  of 
them,  on  the  contrary,  are  opposed  to  these  laAvs. 
Put  before  entering  more  full^"  niion  the  demonstra- 
tion of  this  by  our  geometrical  method,  I aauII  first 
briefly  shoAv  AAdiat  I regard  as  the  dictates  of  reasoii. 
so  that  all  my  readers  may  the  more  easip"  perceive 
and  understand  my  vieAA  s.  As  reason  demands  noth- 
ing contrary  to  nature,  it  therefore  requires  that 
every  one  should  love  himself,  that  he  should  se^k 
after  that  Avhich  is  truly  useful  to  him,  and  strive  to 
attain  to  all  that  really  leads  man  to  higher  perfection, 
and  aboAm  all  that  every  one  should,  absolutely,  so 
far  as  in  him  lies,  endeavor  to  preserve  his  state  of 
being ; all  of  AAdiich  is  as  necessarily  true  as  that  a 
Avhole  is  greater  than  a piart  fide  Prop.  4,  Part  III.). 
Further,  since  indeed  man’s  Aurtue  (by  Def.  8)  is 
nothing  but  action  in  accordance  AAuth  the  laAvs  of  his 


PAllT  lY. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  238 


]n*oper  nature,  and  no  one  (Prop.  7,  Part  III.)  strives  to 
])i*eserve  liis  being  save  in  conformity  with  the  laws 
of  his  nature,  it  follows,  .•  that  the  foundation 
of  virtue  is  the  effort  itself  Avhich  man  makes  to  \)ve- 
serve  his  being,  and  tliat  his  happiness  consists  in 
his  being  able  to  preserv^e  it.  It  follows,  second  : 
that  virtue  is  to  be  desired  for  its  own  sake,  and  not 
for  any  other  reason,  and  that  there  is  nothing  more 
excellent  or  more  useful  to  us.  It  follows,  thirds 
and  lastly  : that  they  avIio  commit  suicide  are  impo- 
tent of  soul  and  utterly  vanquished  by  external 
causes  repugnant  to  their  own  nature. 

Moreover,  it  follows  from  Postulate  4,  Part  II., 
that  Ave  can  never  bring  it  to  pass  that  Ave  shall  re- 
quire nothing  out  of  ourselves  for  the  preservation 
of  our  being,  and  that  AAn  can  so  live  as  to  have  no 
intercourse  Avith  things  beyond  ourselves.  And  fur- 
ther, if  AAn  regard  our  soul,  aaaa  aauU  see  that  our 
understanding  Avould  be  less  perfect  if  the  soul  AA^ere 
isolated  and  apprehended  nothing  but  itself.  There 
are,  therefore,  many  things  out  of  or  beyond  our- 
selves that  are  useful  to  us,  and  on  that  account 
desirable.  Among  these  none  can  be  conceived  of 
greater  excellence  than  those  Avhich  entirely  agree 
Avitli  our  lAi'oper  nature.  For  example,  if  tAvo  indi- 
viduals of  precisely  the  same  nature  Avere  joined 
together,  they  Avould  compose  one  individual  of 
double  the  poAver  of  either  separately.  Nothing, 
therefore,  is  more  useful  to  man  than  his  fellow-men  ; 
nothing,  I say,  is  more  to  be  desired  by  men,  or  more 
valuable  as  means  for  the  imeservation  of  their  being, 
than  that  all  should  in  all  things  so  agree  that  the 
souls  and  bodies  of  all  should  constitute,  as  it  Avere, 
one  soul  and  one  body  ; and  that  together  all  should 
endeavor,  as  far  as  possible,  to  preserve  their  being  ; 


234 


spixoza's  ethics. 


and  that  togetlier  all  sliould  earnestly  seek  after 
whatsoever  is  for  the  common  good.  From  this  it 
follows  that  men  who  are  governed  by  reason,  that  is 
to  say,  men  avIio  under  the  guidance  of  reason  strive 
after  Avhat  is  truly  useful,  desire  nothing  for  them- 
selves which  they  do  not  desire  for  all  men,  and  con- 
sequently are  just,  faithful,  and  honorable  towards 
their  neighbors. 

Such  are  the  dictates  of  reason  Avhich  I jn’oposed  to 
speak  of  briefly  before  entering  more  fully  upon 
their  demonstration  in  regular  order,  so  that  I might, 
if  possible,  gain  the  attention  of  those  avIio  think  that 
the  doctrine  I announce — namely,  that  every  one  is 
bound  to  seek  that  Avhich  is  useful  to  himself — is  tlie 
foundation  of  immorality  and  not  of  virtue  and  piety. 
Since  therefore  I have  briefly  shoAvn  to  the  contrary, 
I shall  noAv  proceed  to  demonstrate  my  doctrine  in 
the  same  Avay  as  Ave  have  advanced  thus  far. 

PEOP.  XIX. — EA'cry  one  by  the  Iuaas  of  Ids 
nature  necessarily  desires  that  which  he 
deems  good  and  shuns  that  which  he 
judges  to  be  evil. 

Deaioxstr. — The  knoAAdedge  of  good  and  evil  is 
itself  (by  Prop.  8)  an  affection  of  joy  or  soitoav  in  so 
far  as  aa'c  are  conscious  of  it  ; and  consequently  (by 
Prop.  28,  Part  III.)  every  one  necessarily  desires  that 
AAdnch  he  judges  to  be  good,  and  on  the  contrary 
avoids  that  AA’hich  he  judges  to  be  eAul.  But  this 
desire  or  appetite  is  nothing  else  than  the  veiy 
essence  or  nature  of  man  (by  Def.  of  Appetite,  AAdiich 
see  in  Scliol.  to  Prop.  9,  Part  III.,  and  Def.  1 of  Pas- 
sions). Therefore  every  one  by  the  laAvs  of  his  nature 
alone  necessarily  desires  good  and  shuns  evil.  q.  e.  d. 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  235 


PEOP.  XX. — The  more  any  one  seeks  vliat  is 
useful  to  liiin,  fe.,  the  more  he  endeavors 
and  is  able  to  conserve  his  being,  tlie 
greater  is  the  virtue  Avith  AAdiieli  lie  is 
endoAved  ; and  on  the  contrary,  in  so  far  as 
lie  neglects  that  Avhieh  is  useful  to  him — 
i.e.,  neglects  the  conserA  ation  of  his  being 
— so  far  is  he  impotent. 

Deaioxstr. — Virtue  is  human  poAver  itself,  Avhieli 
is  defined  hy  the  essence  of  man  alone  (by  I)ef.  8)  ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  Ill.  j,  it  is  defined  by 
the  effort  alone  AAdiicli  man  makes  to  perseA^ere  in  his 
state  of  being.  The  more  therefore  each  one  endea- 
vors and  the  more  he  is  able  to  conserve  his  being, 
the  greater  is  the  Aurtne  or  poAA’er  Avith  AAdiich  he  is 
endoAA^ed  ; and  consequently  (by  Props.  4 and  6, 
Part  111.),  in  so  far  as  any  one  neglects  the  conseiva- 
tion  of  his  being,  so  far  is  he  impotent,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Xo  one,  therefore,  neglects  to  take  such 
nonrishment  as  is  nsefnl  to  him  or  to  preseive  his 
being,  unless  from  causes  external  and  contrary  to 
his  nature.  Xo  one,  I say,  is  eA^er  constrained  by  the 
necessit}"  of  his  proper  nature  to  aA^oid  AATiolesome 
food  or  to  put  an  end  to  his  oaaui  life,  except  by  an 
external  cause,  AAdiicli  may  operate  in  Amrious  Ava3LS. 
Thus  a man  may  kill  himself  if  the  hand  in  aaTiIcIi  he 
holds  an  unsheathed  dagger  is  grasped  b\'  another 
and  so  turned  around  that  the  AA’eaxAon  is  forcibl}^ 
directed  against  himself  and  pierces  his  heart ; or 
AAdien  by  the  mandate  of  a tyrant,  as  in  the  case  of 
Seneca,  he  opens  his  A^eins  that  he  may  escape  a 
greater  by  submitting  to  AAdiat  he  esteems  a lesser 
eAul ; lastly,  hidden  external  causes  ma}^  so  dispose  a 


236 


. spixoza’s  ethics. 


nuiirs  imagination  and  affect  liis  body  in  sucli  a way 
that  anotlier  nature  contrary  to  his  first  is  assumed, 
and  of  whicli  no  idea  exists  in  tlie  soul  (by  Prop.  10, 
Part  III.).  But  that  man,  by  the  necessity  of  his 
proper  nature,  should  seek  not  to  exist  or  should  de- 
sire to  be  changed  into  some  other  form  of  being,  is 
as  impossible  as  that  something  should  be  made  out 
of  nothiug, — as  every  one  with  a little  reflection  will 
perceive. 

PROP.  XXI. — Xo  one  can  desire  to  be  liappy, 
to  act  well,  and  to  live  a good  life,  who 
does  not  at  the  same  time  desire  to  be,  to 
act,  and  to  live, — that  is,  to  exist  in  act. 

Demoxsth. — The  demonstration  of  this  Proposi- 
tion, or  rather  the  Proposition  itself,  is  self-evident, 
as  it  is  also  from  the  definition  of  Desire.  For  the 
desire  to  live  a good  or  happy  life,  to  be  doing,  etc., 
is  (by  1 Def.  of  Passions)  itself  the  very  essence  of 
man, — that  is  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  111.),  it  is  the  effort 
by  wliich  every  one  endeavors  to  conserve  his  being. 
Therefore  no  one  can  desire,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXII. — Xo  virtne  prior  to  this  (namely, 
the  effort  for  self-preservation)  can  lie 
conceived. 

Demoxstr. — The  effort  for  self-preservation  is  itself 
the  very  essence  of  a thing  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.). 
If  therefore  any  virtue  could  be  conceived  prior  to 
this  effort,  the  essence  of  the  thing  would  be  con- 
ceived prior  to  the  thing  itself  (by  Def.  8),  which 
(obviously)  is  absurd.  Therefore  no  virtue  prior  to 
this,  etc.  Q.  E.  D. 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  237 


Coroll. — The  self-preservative  effort  is  the  first 
and  only  foundation  of  all  virtue.  For  no  other 
])rinciple  can  be  conceived  prior  to  this  (by  preceding- 
Prop.),  and  without  it  (by  Prop.  21)  no  virtue  is  con- 
ceivable. 

PKOP.  XXIIl. — Man,  in  so  far  as  lie  is  deter- 
mined to  act  by  reason  of  his  having  in- 
adequate ideas,  cannot  be  said  to  act  from 
virtue  absolutely  ; but  can  only  be  said  so 
to  act  in  so  far  as  he  is  determined  by  what 
he  understands. 

Demonstr. — In  so  far  as  man  is  determined  to 
action  by  inadequate  ideas,  in  so  far  does  he  suffer 
(by  Prop.  1,  Part  III.) ; that  is  (by  Defs.  1 and  2, 
Part  III.),  he  does  something  Avhich  cannot  be  apjire- 
hended  by  his  essence  alone  ; in  other  words  (by  Pef. 
cS),  something  which  does  not  follow  from  his  proper 
])Ower  or  virtue.  But  in  so  far  as  he  is  determined 
to  any  action  by  his  understanding,  in  so  far  (by  the 
same  Prop.  1,  Part  III.)  does  he  act,  i.e.,  do  some- 
thing that  is  apprehended  by  his  proper  essence  or 
nature  alone  (by  I)ef.  2,  Part  III.),  or  (by  Def.  8)  that 
follows  adequately  from  his  own  power  or  virtue. 
(^  E.  u. 

l^ROP.  XXIV. — To  act  absolutely  from  virtue  is 
for  us  nothing  else  than,  under  the  guidance 
of  reason,  to  act,  to  live,  and  to  preserve 
our  being  (these  three  signifying  the  same 
thing)  on  the  fundamental  principle  of 
seeking  what  is  useful  to  ourselves. 

Demonstr. — To  act  absolutely  from  virtue  is  noth- 


288 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


ing  else  than  to  act  according  to  the  laws  of  our  proper 
nature  (by  Def.  8).  But  we  only  act  in  tliis  Avay  in 
so  far  as  we  have  understanding  (by  Prop.  3,  Part  III.). 
Therefore  to  act  from  virtue  is  for  us  nothing  else 
tlian  to  act,  to  live,  and  to  j)reserve  our  being  under 
the  guidance  of  reason,  and  this  (by  the  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  22)  on  the  ground  that  we  are  seeking  what  is 
useful  to  ourselves,  q.  e.  d. 

PE  OP.  XXV. — Xo  one  endeavors  to  jireserve 
his  being  for  any  other  cause  than  that  it  is 
useful  to  himself. 

Demoxste. — The  effort  by  which  each  particular 
thing  endeavors  to  persevere  in  its  being,  is  defined 
solely  as  the  essence  of  that  thing  itself  (by  Prop.  7, 
Part  III.)  ; and  from  this  essence  alone,  not  from  the 
essence  of  any  other  thing,  does  it  necessarily  follow 
that  each  x^articular  thing  endeavors  to  jireserve  its 
being  (by  Prop.  6,  Part  III.).  This  proiiosition  is 
also  evident  by  the  Coroll,  to  Proj).  22.  For  did  man 
seek  to  xu'^serve  his  being  on  account  of  something 
other  than  himself,  then  would  that  thing  be  the 
Xirimary  cause  of  his  virtue  (as  is  self-evident),  which 
(by  the  Coroll,  referred  to  above)  is  absurd.  There- 
fore no  one  endeavors,  etc.  q.  e.  n. 

PE  OP.  XXVI. — IVliatevcr  effort  ^ye  make  from 
reason  is  nothing  else  than  understanding  ; 
nor  does  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  uses  reason, 
judge  anyihing  to  be  useful  to  it  save  that 
which  conduces  to  understanding. 

Demoxste. — The  effort  of  a thing  to  xireserve  itself 
is  nothing  but  the  very  essence  of  the  thing  (by  Proxi. 


PART  IV.— SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  230 


7,  Part  III.),  wliicli,  in  so  far  as  it  exists  as  siicl),  is 
conceived  to  liave  tlie  power  of  continuing  in  exis- 
tence (by  Prop.  6,  Part  III.),  and  of  doing  whatever 
necessaril}^  follows  from  its  given  nature  (see  tlie 
Definition  of  A|)petite  in  tlie  Scliol.  to  Prop.  9,  Pa  it 
III.).  But  the  essence  of  onr  reason  is  notliing  but 
our  soul  in  so  far  as  it  has  clear  and  distinct  under- 
standing (see  tlie  Def.  of  Understanding  in  Scliol.  2 to 
Prop,  do.  Part  II.).  Consequently  (by  Prop.  40,  Part 
II.)  whatever  effort  we  make  from  reason  is  nothing 
other  than  to  understand.  Further,  since  this  effort 
whereb}^  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  reasons,  strives  to 
])reserve  its  being,  is  nothing  but  nndei'standing  (as 
stated  above),  therefore  is  the  effort  to  understand  the 
beginning  and  sole  foundation  of  virtue  (by  Coroll,  to 
Prop.  22)  ; nor  is  it  because  of  any  end  or  purpose 
that  we  endeavor  to  understand  a thing  (by  Prop.  25) ; 
on  the  contiary,  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  reasons,  can 
conceive  nothing  as  truly  good  or  useful  to  it  save 
that  only  which  conduces  to  understanding  (by  Def. 
1).  Q.  E.  D. 

PKOIC  XXYII. — G know  nothing  for  cer- 
tain as  being  good  or  evil  save  that  which 
truly  conduces  to  understanding,  or  which 
may  hinder  ns  from  understanding. 

Demoxstr. — The  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  reasons,  de- 
sires nothing  but  to  understand  ; neither  does  it  jndg(‘ 
anything  to  be  useful  to  it  save  that  wdiich  conduces 
to  understanding  (by  pre(.*eding  Prop.).  But  the  soul 
(by  Props.  41  and  43,  Part  II.,  and  the  Scliol.  to  the 
latter,  which  see)  has  no  certainty  of  things  except  in 
so  far  as  it  has  adequate  ideas,  or  (what  by  Scliol.  2 
to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.,  is  the  same  thing)  as  it  reasons. 


240 


SPI^TJZA‘S  ETHICS. 


AVlierefore  we  know  notliing  for  certain  as  being  good 
save  that  which  truly  conduces  to  understanding; 
and  on  tlie  contrary,  nothing  as  evil  save  that  whicli 
hinders  us  from  understanding,  q.  e.  d. 

I^EOr.  XXYIII. — The  supreme  good  of  the 
soul  is  tlie  knowledge  of  God,  and  tlie 
highest  virtue  of  tlie  soul  is  to  know  God. 

Demoa^str.— The  higliest  object  of  tlie  soul's  under- 
standing is  God,  that  is  (by  I)ef.  6,  Part  I.),  the  Abso- 
lutely Infinite  Being,  without  which  (by  Prop.  1.5, 
Part  I.)  nothing  is  or  can  be  conceived  to  be.  There- 
fore (by  Proi3s.  26  and  27)  that  which  is  snprenieh^ 
useful  or  good  to  the  soul  is  the  true  knowledge  of 
God  (by  Def.  1).  Again,  in  so  far  as  the  soul  under- 
stands, in  so  far  only  does  it  act  (by  Props.  1 and  3, 
Part  III.),  and  in  so  far  only  (by  Prop.  23)  can  it  be 
said  absolutely  to  act  virtuously.  The  absolute  virtue 
or  ])ower  of  the  soul,  therefore,  is  to  understand.  But 
the  highest  object  of  the  soul’s  understanding  is  God 
(as  just  demonstrated).  Therefore  the  highest  virtue 
of  the  soul  is  to  understand  or  know  God.  q.  e.  d. 

l^ROP.  XXIX. — An  individual  thing  whose 
nature  is  entirely  different  from  our  own 
can  neither  favor  nor  hinder  our  power  of 
acting ; and  nothing  can  be  absolutely 
good  or  bad  to  ns,  unless  it  liave  something 
in  common  Avith  ns. 

Bemoxstr. — The  power  of  each  individual  thing, 
and  consequently  of  man  (by  Coroll,  to  Proji.  10, 
Part  II.),  to  exist  and  act,  is  not  determined  save  by 
some  other  individual  thing  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  I.) 


PAllT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  241 


vilose  nature  (by  Prop  6,  Part  IT.)  must  be  unde]- 
stood  by  the  same  attribute  Avliereby  human  nature  is 
conceived.  Our  power  of  acting,  therefore,  in  what- 
ever way  conceived,  can  be  determined,  and  conse- 
quently favored  or  hindered,  by  the  power  of  some 
other  individual  thing  which  has  sometliing  in  com- 
mon Avith  us,  but  not  by  tlie  poAver  of  a thing  AAdiose 
nature  is  entirely  different  from  our  oaaui  ; and  as  av(‘- 
call  that  good  or  bad  AA'hich  is  the  cause  of  joy  or  sor- 
roAv  to  us  (by  Prop.  8),  that  is  to  say  (by  Schol.  to 
Prop.  11,  Part  III.),  AAdiich  increases  or  diminishes, 
favors  or  hinders  our  power  of  action,  therefore  can 
the  thing  Avliose  nature  is  entirely  different  from  our 
OAvn  be  neither  good  nor  bad  to  us-  q.  e.  d. 


PKOP.  XXX. — Xotliiiig  can  be  evil  to  us  by 
that  AAliicli  it  has  in  coniinon  Avith  our 
nature  ; hut  in  so  far  as  it  is  eA  il  to  ns,  in 
so  far  is  it  contrary  to  our  nature. 

Deaiois'Str. — We  call  that  evil  AAdiich  is  a cause  of 
pain  or  sorrow  to  us  (by  Prop.  8),  in  other  Avords 
(by  the  Del  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  11,  Part  III,  AAdiich 
see) , that  Avliich  diminishes  or  restrains  our  poAver  of 
action.  If  therefore  anything  AA'ere  evil  to  us  by 
reason  of  that  which  it  had  in  common  AAdth  us,  it 
might  thereby  diminish  or  restrain  that  AAdiich  it  had 
in  common  AAdth  us,  AAdiich  (by  Prop.  4,  Part  III.)  is 
absurd.  Xotliing  therefore  can  be  evil  to  us  by  that 
Avhicli  it  has  in  common  Avith  our  nature  ; but  on  the 
contrary,  in  so  far  as  it  is  eAul,  that  is  (as  AA^ehave  just 
shoAAm),  in  so  far  as  it  diminishes  or  restrains  our 
poAver  of  action,  in  so  far  is  it  (by  Prop,  o,  Part  III.) 
contrary  to  our  nature.  Q.  e.  d. 

16 


242 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  XXXT. — In  so  far  as  aiivtliiii^  ai>'recs 
witli  our  nature,  in  so  far  is  it  necessarily 
good  to  us. 

Dkmoxstu. — For  in  so  far  as  a tiling  agrees  with 
our  nature,  it  cannot  (by  preceding  Prop.)  be  evil. 
It  will  therefore  necessarily  be  either  good  or  indiffer- 
ent. If  we  snj)pose  it  to  be  indifferent,  that  is — 
neither  good  nor  evil — then  nothing  (by  our  Axiom) 
can  follow  from  its  nature  which  could  serve  for  the 
conservation  of  our  nature ; that  is  (by  hypothesis), 
which  could  serve  for  the  preservation  of  its  own  na- 
ture. But  this  is  absurd  (by  Prop.  6,  Part  III.).  It 
will,  therefore,  in  so  far  as  it  agrees  with  onr  nature, 
necessarily  be  good.  q.  e.  d. 

Cor.oLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  more  anything 
agrees  with  our  nature  the  more  is  it  useful  or  good 
to  us  ; and  reciprocally,  the  more  anything  is  useful 
to  us  the  more  does  it  thereby  agree  with  our  nature. 
For  in  so  far  as  it  does  not  agree  with  our  nature  it 
will  necessarily  be  different  from  or  opposed  to  it. 
If  different,  then  (by  Prop.  29)  it  could  be  neither 
good  nor  evil ; — if  opposed,  it  would  then  also  be  op- 
posed to  that  which  agrees  with  our  nature,  that  is 
(by  preceding  Prop.),  contrary  to  good  or  evil.  Xoth- 
ing  therefore  can  be  good  to  ns  save  in  so  far  as  it 
agrees  with  our  iiatnre  ; consequently  the  more  any- 
thing agrees  with  our  nature  the  moi'e  useful  is  it  to 
us  ; and  on  the  contrary,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXXII. — 111  so  far  as  men  arc  subject 
to  passion,  in  so  far  they  cannot  be  said  to 
agree  with  nature. 

Demoxstu. — Things  that  are  said  to  agree  with  na- 
ture are  understood  to  agree  in  power  (b}^  Prop.  7, 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  243 


Part  III.),  bnt  not  in  impotency  or  negation,  neither, 
consequently,  in  respect  of  passion  {i:}ide  Schol.  to 
Prop.  3,  Part  ; wherefore  in  so  far  as  men  are 
subject  to  passion  they  cannot  be  said  to  agree  with 
nature,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — This  is  even  self-evident.  For  he  wlio 
should  say  that  white  and  black  only  agree  in  neither 
of  them  being  red,  would  absolutely  affirm  that  white 
and  black  agree  in  nothing.  So,  also,  if  one  said  that 
a stone  and  a man  agree  only  in  this  : that  each  is 
finite  and  impotent,  or  that  neither  of  them  exist  by 
the  necessity  of  their  proper  nature,  or  lastly,  that 
both  of  them  are  indefinitely  surpassed  by  the  power 
of  external  causes,  he  would  affirm  absolutely  that  a 
stone  and  a man  agree  in  nothing.  For  things  tiiat 
only  agree  negatively  or  in  that  which  they  have  not, 
do  not  truly  agree  in  anything. 

PEOP.  XXXIII. — Men  may  differ  in  their  na- 
ture in  so  far  as  they  are  agitated  by  affec- 
tions which  are  passions ; and  in  so  far  also 
is  one  and  the  same  individual  man  vari- 
able and  inconstant. 

Demoxstr. — The  nature  or  essence  of  the  passions 
cannot  be  exiDlained  by  our  nature  or  essence  alone 
(by  Defs.  1 and  2,  Part  III.),  but  must  be  defined  by 
the  power,  that  is  (b}^  Prop.  7,  Part  III.),  by  tlie  na- 
ture of  external  causes  as  compared  with  our  nature. 
Whence  it  comes  to  pass  that  there  are  as  many  spe- 
cies of  each  affection  or  passion  as  there  are  species 
of  objects  by  which  we  are  affected  {mde  Prop.  oG, 
Part  III.),  and  that  men  are  diversely  affected  by  one 

* The  Edition  of  1677,  and  also  the  Leipsic  Edition,  1843,  here  cite 
Part  II.,  but  Part  III.  is  evidently  meant. — Tn. 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


^J44 

and  tlie  same  object  (v/de  Prop.  51,  Part  III.),  and 
tliiis  and  in  so  far  differ  in  their  nature  ; and,  lastly, 
that  one  and  the  same  man  (by  same  Prop.  51,  Part 
III.)  maybe  diversely  affected  in  respect  of  the  same 
object,  and  in  so  far  is  variable  and  inconstant,  etc. 
Q.  E.  H. 

PKOr.  XXXIT.— Ill  so  far  as  men  arc  agitated 
by  affections  which  are  passions  they  may 
be  opposed  to  each  other. 

Demoxste. — A man — say  Peter — may  be  the  cause 
of  sorrow  to  Paul,  either  because  he  has  something 
about  him  like  that  which  Paul  dislikes  (by  Prop.  16, 
Part  III.),  or  because  Peter  possesses  something 
Avliich  Paul  does  not,  but  which  Paul  himself  covets 
[v/de  Prop.  82,  Part  III.,  and  its  Schol.),  or  for  other 
causes  (v/de  Schol.  to  Prop.  55,  Part  III.).  Hence  it 
comes  that  Paul  will  have  dislike  or  hate  for  Peter 
(by  Hef . 7,  of  Passions),  and  consequently  it  as  read- 
ily happens  that  Peter,  in  his  turn  (by  Prop.. 40  and 
its  Schol.,  Part  III.),  will  have  dislike  or  hate  for 
Paul;  so  that  (by  Prop.  39,  Part  III.)  the  effect  is 
that  each  will  be  disposed  to  do  the  other  an  injury  ; 
that  is  to  say  (by  Proj).  30),  they  are  brought  into 
opposition  to  each  other.  But  the  affection  of  sorrow 
is  always  a passion  (by  Prop.  59,  Part  III.).  There- 
fore men,  in  so  far  as  they  are  agitated  by  affections 
which  are  iiassions,  may  be  opposed  to  each  other. 

Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — I have  said  that  Paul  Avould  hate  Peter 
because  he  imagined  that  Peter  possessed  something 
which  he,  Paul,  coveted.  Whence  it  would  seem  at 
the  first  thought  that  these  two  both  liked  the  same 
thing,  and,  consequently,  that  because  they  agreed 


PART  IV. — SL AVERY- -FOPvCE  OF  THE  PASSIOVS.  245 


ill  their  natures  they  were  disposed  to  injure  eacli 
other.  But  if  this  were  true,  then  Props.  30  and  81 
would  be  false.  If  however  we  examine  into  the  mat- 
ter impartially  we  shall  find  that  in  all  that  has  been 
said  there  is  a perfect  agreement.  For  these  two  per- 
sons of  whom  we  have  spoken  are  not  inimical  to 
each  other  in  so  far  as  they  agree  in  their  nature,  that 
is  to  say,  in  so  far  as  they  both  like  the  same  thing, 
but  in  so  far  as  they  differ  from  each  other.  For  in 
so  far  as  they  both  like  the  same  thing  the  love  of 
each  is  excited  (by  Prop.  31,  Part  III.),  that  is  (by 
Def.  6 of  Passions),  the  feeling  of  joy  is  favored  in 
both.  Wherefore  it  is  not  because  they  love  the  same 
thing  and  agree  in  nature  that  they  are  inimical  to 
each  other  ; but  the  cause  of  it,  as  I have  said,  is 
nothing  else  than  the  assumed  discrepancy  of  their 
several  natures.  For  let  us  suppose  that  Peter  has  an 
idea  of  a thing  he  loves  and  now  possesses,  and  Paul, 
on  the  other  hand,  has  an  idea  of  a thing  he  loved  and 
has  now  lost.  It  will  then  happen  that  the  one  will 
be  affected  by  the  passion  of  joy,  and  the  other,  on 
the  contrary,  by  the  passion  of  sorrow  ; and  in  so  far 
will  the  two  be  in  opposition  to  each  other.  And  in 
the  same  way  it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  the  othej- 
causes  of  dislike  or  hate  depend  solely  on  the  dis- 
crepancies, not  on  the  agreements  of  the  natures  of 
men. 

PIIOP.  XXXV. — 111  so  far  as  iiieii  live  under 
the  guidance  of  reason,  in  so  far  only  do 
they  always  and  necessarily  agree  in  na- 
ture. 

Demoxstr. — In  so  far  as  men  are  agitated  by  affec- 
tions which  are  passions,  their  natures  may  be  diverse 


246 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


( by  Prop.  33)  and  opposed  to  eacli  other  (by  preceding 
Prop.).  Bnt  in  so  far  only  as  men  act  under  the  gui- 
dance of  reason  can  they  be  said  to  live  rationally 
(by  Prop.  3,  Part  III.),  and  so  whatever  follows  from 
human  nature  in  so  far  as  defined  by  reason,  ninst 
(by  Def.  2,  Part  III.)  be  understood  solely  by  hnman 
nature  thus  defined,  as  its  proximate  cause.  Bnt  as 
every  one  by  the  laws  of  his  nature  desires  that 
which  he  deems  to  be  good,  and  endeavors  to  put 
aAvay  that  which  he  judges  to  be  bad  (by  Prop.  19) ; 
and,  moreover,  as  that  which  we  judge  to  be  good  or 
bad  from  the  dictates  of  reason,  is  necessarily  good 
or  bad  (by  Prop.  41,  Part  II.),  therefore  do  men,  i]i 
so  far  as  they  live  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  do 
such  things  only  as  are  necessarily  good  for  all  man- 
kind, and,  consequentl}^  necessarily  good  for  every 
individual  man  ; in  other  words  (by  Coroll.  to  Prop. 
31),  which  agree  ^^dth  the  nature  of  each  individual 
man.  Therefore  do  men  in  so  far  as  they  live  under 
the  guidance  of  reason  always  and  necessarily  agree 
in  nature  with  each  other,  q.  e.  d. 

ConoLL.  1. — There  is  no  single  thing  in  nature  more 
useful  to  man  than  the  man  who  lives  according  to 
the  dictates  of  reason.  For  there  is  nothing  more 
useful  to  man  than  that  which  most  agrees  with  his 
own  nature  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  31),  to  wit  (as  is  self- 
evident)  : man.  Now  man  acts  absolutely  by  the 
laws  of  his  own  nature  when  he  lives  under  the  gui- 
dance of  reason  (by  Def.  2,  Part  III.),  and  in  so  far 
only  does  his  nature  always  and  necessarily  agree 
Avith  the  nature  of  other  men  (by  xireceding  Prop.). 
Therefore  there  is  no  single  thing  in  nature  more  use- 
ful to  man  than  the  man  who  lives  in  conformity  Avith 
the  dictates  of  reason,  q.  e.  d. 

CoROLT.  2. — When  each  individual  man  strives 


PART  IV.  — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOYS.  247 


most  for  that  which  is  especially  useful  to  himself, 
then  are  men  most  useful  to  one  another.  For  the 
more  each  one  strives  for  that  which  is  useful  to  him- 
self and  endeavors  to  preserve  his  being,  the  more  he 
has  of  virtue  (by  Prop.  20),  or  what  is  the  same  thing 
(by  Def.  8),  the  greater  is  the  power  with  which  he  is 
endowed  to  act  according  to  the  laws  of  Lis  proper 
nature,  that  is  (by  Prop.  3,  Part  III.),  to  live  accord- 
ing to  the  dictates  of  reason.  But  men  most  agree  in 
their  natures  when  they  live  under  the  guidance  of 
reason  (by  preceding  Prop.).  Therefore  (by  preceding 
Coroll.)  are  men  most  useful  to  one  another  when 
each  one  strives  most  for  that  which  is  useful  to  him- 
self. Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — What  has  just  been  said  is  so  clearly  con- 
hrnied  by  daily  experience  and  illustrated  by  so  many 
examples,  that  it  has  come  to  be  a common  saying 
that — man  is  a God  to  man.  It  seldom  happens, 
however,  that  men  do  live  accoraing  to  the  dictates 
of  reason  ; but,  speaking  comparatively,  the  most  of 
them  are  envious  of  and  opposed  to  one  another. 
Nevertheless,  but  few  men  are  found  willing  to  live 
a solitary  life,  so  that  the  definition  of  man  as  a so- 
cial being  has  been  generally  accepted  ; and,  indeed, 
things  are  so  ordered  that  far  more  benefits  than  dis- 
advantages accrue  to  man  from  living  in  a common 
society.  Satirists,  therefore,  may  ridicule  human 
institutions  as  much  as  they  please,  theologians  may 
execrate  them,  and  misanthropes  praise  a rude  un- 
civilized life,  contemn  mankind  and  admire  the  brutes, 
but  experience  will  nevertheless  always  teach  men 
that  by  mutual  assistance  they  can  much  more  readily 
procure  all  that  they  require,  and  that  by  uniting 
their  powers  they  can  ward  off  the  perils  that  menace 
them  on  every  side.  I say  nothing  now  of  how  much 


248 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


nobler  and  infinitely  more  worthy  of  our  intelligence 
it  is  to  contemplate  the  actions  of  men  than  those  of 
beasts.  But  of  this  I will  speak  at  length  in  another 
place. 

PROP.  XXXYI. — Tlie  supreme  good  of  those 
who  practise  yirtne  is  common  to  all  men, 
and  all  may  equally  enjoy  it. 

Demonstu. — To  act  virtuously  is  to  act  under  the 
guidance  of  reason  (by  Prop.  24),  and  eveiy  effort  to 
act  reasonably,  is  understanding  (by  PiTqi.  2G) ; so 
that  (by  Prop.  28)  the  highest  hapjtiness  of  those  avIio 
practise  virtue  is  to  know  God, — in  other  words  (by 
Prop.  47,  Part  II.,  and  its  Schoh),  to  enjoy  a good 
that  is  common  to  all,  and  which  all  men,  inasmuch 
as  they  are  of  the  same  nature,  may  equally  possess. 
Q.  E.  n. 

SciiOL. — Should  some  one  now  ask  : — What  if  the 
supreme  good  of  those  who  practise  virtue  should  not 
be  common  to  all  men? — Would  it  not  then  follow 
from  what  has  been  said  {vide  Prop.  34),  that  men 
who  live  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  that  is  (by 
Prop.  35),  men  Avho  so  far  agree  in  nature,  might  be 
found  opposed  to- one  another?  I make  this  re23ly  : 
that  it  is  not  by  accident,  but  from  the  very  nature 
of  reason  that  the  supreme  good  of  man  should  be 
common  to  all ; — and  this  it  truly  is,  because  it  is  de- 
duced from  the  A^ery  essence  of  man  in  so  far  as  it  is 
defined  by  reason,  and  because  man  can  neither  be  nor 
be  conceived  to  be  without  the  ]AOwer  of  enjoying  this 
supreme  happiness.  For  it  belongs  to  the  essence  of 
the  human  soul  (by  Proj).  47,  Part  II.)  to  have  an  ade- 
quate knoAvIedge  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  of 
God. 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  249 


PROP.  XXXYII. — The  good  whicli  every  ad- 
herent of  virtue  desires  for  himself,  he  also 
desires  for  all  other  men  ; and  this  so  mneh 
the  more  as  he  has  a higher,  a fuller,  know- 
ledge of  God. 

Demoxstr. — Men  whose  lives  are  guided  by  rea- 
son are  the  most  useful  to  their  fellow-men  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  3o),  and  therefore  the  dictate  of  rea- 
son necessarily  induces  ns  to  Avish  that  men  should 
live  in  conformity  to  reason.  Xow  the  good  which 
every  one  desires  for  himself  Avho  lives  according  to 
the  dictates  of  reason,  that  is  (b}^  Prop.  24),  avIio  ad- 
heres to  virtue,  is  to  understand  (by  Prop.  26).  There- 
fore the  good  Avhich  every  disciple  of  virtue  desires 
for  himseK  he  Avill  desire  also  for  all  other  men. 
Again,  desire,  as  referred  to  the  soul,  is  the  very  es- 
sence of  the  soul  (by  1 Def.  of  Passions)  ; but  the  es- 
sence of  the  soul  consists  in  knowledge  or  under- 
standing (by  Prop.  11,  Part  II.),  Avhich  im^olves  the 
knowledge  of  God  (by  Prop.  47,  Part  II.),  AAithont 
Avhich  the  soul  (by  Prox3.  lo.  Part  I.)  can  neither  be 
nor  be  conceived  to  be.  Thus,  therefore,  the  greater 
the  knowledge  of  God  involved  in  the  essence  of  the 
soul,  the  greater  will  be  the  desire  of  the  adherent  of 
virtue  that  any  good  he  enjoys  himself  should  also  be 
enjoyed  by  others,  q.  e.  d. 

• Another  Demonstr. — The  good  which  a man  loves 
and  desires,  he  will  love  the  more  constantly  if  he 
sees  that  others  loA^e  it  also  (by  Proji.  31,  Part  III.) ; 
and  consequently  (by  the  Coroll,  to  the  same  Prop.) 
he  will  strive  to  hai^e  others  love  it.  And  because 
this  good  (by  jireceding  Pro^i.)  is  common  to  all,  and 
all  may  equally  enjoy  it,  he  will  further  strive  (for 
the  same  reason)  that  all  should  share  it,  and  this  (by 


260 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


Prop.  37,  Part  III.)  so  mucli  the  more  the  more^  he 
himself  enjoys  it.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL.— He  who  from  passion  only  would  have 
others  loye  what  he  loves  himself,  and  would  have 
everybody  liye  according  to  his  predilections,  acts 
merely  from  impulse,  and  is  therefore  odious  to  others, 
especiall}"  to  those  who  have  different  tastes  or  incli- 
nations, and  who,  moved  by  like  impulses,  would  on 
the  contrary  wish  to  have  others  live  as  they  do. 
Further,  as  the  highest  good  which  men  desire  from 
mere  passion  is  often  such  that  only  one  can  possess 
it,  it  haxipens  that  in  desiring  others  to  like  it  their 
minds  are  not  at  peace,  and  whilst  delighting  to  praise 
the  thing  they  love  they  yet  fear  to  be  taken  at  their 
word.  But  he  who  would  persuade  othei’s  to  be  guided 
by  reason  acts  not  from  mere  impulse,  but  humanely 
and  benignly,  and  so  is  ever  at  peace  in  his  own  soul. 
Moreover,  whatever  we  desire,  whatever  we  do  of 
which  we  are  ourselves  the  cause  in  so  far  as  we  have  ■ 
an  idea  of  God,  or  in  so  far  as  we  know  God,  I refer 
to  Religion ; and  the  desire  of  doing  well  which  is 
engendered  by  living  in  accordance  with  reason,  I 
call  Piety  {pietas).  Further,  the  desire  to  bind  others 
to  himself  in  friendship  which  a man  feels  who  lives 
b}^  reason,  I call  honor  {lionestas)^  and  that  honorable 
{honestus)  which  men  who  live  according  to  reason 
commend  ; and,  on  the  contrary,  I call  that  dishonor- 
able or  base  {turpis)  which  is  incompatible  with  the^ 
existence  of  friendship.  I have  besides  shown  what 
are  the  foundations  of  the  Civil  State.  The  difference 
between  true  virtue  and  impotence  will  be  easily  per- 
ceived from  what  has  been  said  above,  to  wit : that 
true  virtue  consists  in  nothing  else  than  to  live  ac- 
cording to  the  dictates  of  reason  alone  ; whilst  impo- 
tence consists  solely  in  this  : that  man  suffers  himself 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY— FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  251 


to  be  led  or  governed  by  things  out  of  or  external  to 
himself  which  determine  him  to  do  acts  snch  as  may 
agree  with  the  common  constitution  of  external  things, 
but  which  are  not  such  as  his  proper  nature,  consider- 
ed in  itself  alone,  proclaims  to  be  right. 

These  are  the  principles  which  in  the  Scholium  to 
Proposition  18.  I promised  to  demonstrate,  and  from 
which  it  appears  that  any  law  against  killing  brute 
animals  is  founded  more  upon  vain  superstition  or 
womanly  pity  than  upon  sound  reason.  Reason,-  in- 
deed, teaches  ns  the  necessity  of  joining  with  onr  fel- 
low-men in  quest  of  things  useful  to  us,  not  however 
with  brutes  or  things  whose  nature  is  different  from 
human  nature  ; — but  the  same  light  they  have  over 
us,  we  have  over  them.  And  inasmuch  as  the  right 
of  every  individual  thing  is  defined  by  the  virtue  or 
power  of  the  individual,  man  has  a much  greater 
right  over  the  lower  animals  than  they  have  over 
him.  ^Nevertheless,  I do  by  no  means  deny  that  the 
lower  animals  feel ; I only  deny  that  it  is  not  lawful 
or  proper  for  us,  by  reason  of  their  feeling,  to  consult 
onr  wants  and  to  use  them  at  our  pleasure  according 
to  our  actual  necessities  and  as  may  be  most  conve- 
nient, seeing  that  their  nature  is  not  conformable  to 
ours,  and  that  their  affections  are  different  from  those 
of  mankind  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  57,  Part  III.). 

It  now  remains  for  me  to  explain  the  meaning  of 
the  words  just  and  unjust^  of  sin^  and  lastly  of 
merit.  This  I shall  do  in  the  following  Scholium. 

SciiOL.  2. — In  the  Appendix  to  the  First  Part  I 
promised  to  explain  what  is  to  be  understood  by 
Praise  and  Blame,  what  by  Merit  and  by  Demerit  or 
Sin,  and  what  by  Just  and  Unjust.  In  the  Scholium 
to  Prop.  29,  Part  III.,  I have  already  explained  what 
I understandby  Praise  and  Blame,  so  that  I have  only 


252 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


to  speak  now  of  tlie  otlier  terms  ; but  I must  first  say 
a few  words  on  the  iS'atural  and  Civil  State  of  man. 

Every  one  exists  by  the  supreme  riglit  of  nature  ; 
and  consequently  every  one  does  by  the  supreme 
right  of  nature  that  which  follows  from  the  necessity 
of  his  proper  nature  ; and  lienee  every  one,  by  the 
supreme  right  of  nature,  in  judging  what  is  good, 
what  bad,  and  what  useful  to  himself,  consults  his 
own  inclinations  (t'Mc  Props.  19  and  20),  avenges  him- 
self {mde  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  40,  Part  III.),  strives  to 
preserve  Avhat  he  loves,  and  endeavors  to  destroy  what 
he  hates  {vide  Prop.  28,  Part  III.).  IS'owif  men  lived 
according  to  reason  alone  every  one  would  possess  this 
right  without  detriment  to  others  (by  Coroll.  1 to 
Prop.  35).  But  inasmuch  as  they  are  subject  to  af- 
fections or  passions  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  4)  Avhich  far 
surpass  in  force  human  virtue  or  power  (by  Prop. 
6),  therefore  are  they  often  swayed  diversely  (by 
Prop.  33)  and  brought  into  opposition  with  one  an- 
other (by  Prop.  34)  so  long  as  they  are  not  mutually 
helpful  (bj^  Schol.  to  Prop.  35).  In  order  therefore 
that  men  may  live  in  concord  and  mutually  assist 
each  other,  it  is  necessary  that  they  should  cede  their 
natural  individual  rights  and  give  security  to  each 
other  that  they  will  do  nothing  that  can  be  injurious 
to  others.  jSTow  the  way  in  which  this  may  be  ac- 
complished, so  that  men  who  are  necessarily  subject 
to  passions  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  4),  and  inconstant 
and  variable  (by  Prop.  33),  can  give  security  and  be 
helpful  and  faithful  to  each  other,  appears  by  Pro^i. 
7 of  this  Part,  and  Prop.  39,  Part  III., — where  it  is 
shown  that  no  passion  can  be  restrained  except  by  a 
contrary  and  stronger  affection,  and  that  every  one 
abstains  from  doing  injury  to  others  through  fear  of 
receiving  a greater  injuiy.  A Society,  therefore,  is 


PAET  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  253 


established  by  assuming  to  itself  the  rights  possessed 
by  each  individual  of  deciding  vdiat  is  good  and  what 
is  bad,  and  of  defending  and  avenging  itself ; and 
thus  it  has  the  power  of  prescribing  the  general  mode 
of  living,  and  of  making  laws  and  enforcing 'them, — 
not  by  reason,  however,  which  cannot  restrain  the 
passions  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  17).  but  by  menacing 
transgressors  with  punishment.  Such  a Society, 
founded  on  law,  and  on  the  power  which  it  has  of 
self-preservation,  is  called  the  State,  and  those  who 
are  protected  b}^  its  laws  are  called  its  citizens.  From 
what  precedes  we  readily  understand  that  in  the 
natural  state  there  can  be  nothing  which  by  common 
consent  is  called  good  or  bad  ; inasmuch  as  every  one 
while  living  in  the  state  of  nature  considers  only  what 
is  useful  to  himself,  and  decides  this  or  that  to  be 
good  or  bad  according  to  his  own  inclinations,  and  in 
so  far  only  as  his  own  particular  interest  or  advan- 
tage is  concerned  ; and  no  one  is  held  bound  to  obey 
any  law  save  his  own  {l.e.  himself)  ; so  tliat  in  the 
state  of  nature  crimes  and  offenees  cannot  be  con- 
ceived. But  it  is  not  so  in  the  civil  state  or  body- 
politic,  where  common  consent  decides  what  is  good 
or  bad,  and  where  every  one  is  held  bound  to  obey 
the  civil  authority.  Sin,  therefore,  or  crime  and 
offence,  is  nothing  else  than  disobedience  to  law,  and 
on  that  account  alone  is  it  punished  by  the  authorit}' 
of  the  State.  On  the  other  hand,  obedience  to  law  is 
accounted  meritorious  in  the  citizen,  and  by  it  is  he 
adjudged  worthy  to  enjoy  the  j)ihdleges  of  citizen- 
ship. Again,  in  the  state  of  nature  no  one  is  owner 
of  anything  by  common  consent,  nor  is  there  in  nature 
anything  that  can  be  said  to  belong  to  some  particular 
man  and  not  to  another,  but  all  things  belong  to  all 
men,  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  any  desire  or 


254 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


wish  to  render  to  any  one  that  which  is  his  own,  or 
to  take  away  from  any  one  that  which  is  his  ; that  is 
to  say,  in  the  state  of  nature  there  is  nothing  done 
that  can  properly  be  just  or  unjust.  It  is  only 

in  the  civil  state  or  body-iiolitic,  where  general  con- 
sent determines  what  belongs  to  e.ach,  that  actions 
can  be  v^xWetijust  or  unjust. 

From  all  which  it  appears  that  just  and  unjust, 
merit  and  demerit  or  crime  are  extrinsic  notions,  not 
attributes  which  explain  the  nature  of  the  soul.  But 
this  is  enough  on  this  point. 

PROP.  XXXYIII. — That  which  disposes  the 
human  body  to  be  affected  in  several  ways, 
or  which  renders  it  apt  to  affect  external 
bodies  in  several  ways,  is  useful  to  man ; 
and  by  so  much  the  more  useful  as  the 
body  is  rendered  more  apt  to  be  affected 
and  to  affect  other  bodies  in  many  different 
ways ; as  on  the  contrary,  that  which 
renders  the  body  less  apt  for  these  various 
functions  is  hurtful. 

Demoxstk. — The  more  apt  the  body  becomes  to  be 
affected  and  to  affect  other  bodies,  the  more  apt  is  the 
soul  to  perceive  (by  Prop.  14,  Part  II.) ; consequently 
that  which  so  disposes  and  renders  the  body  apt  for 
these  functions  is  necessarily  useful  or  good  (by 
Props.  26  and  27),  and  by  so  mncli  the  more  useful  as 
the  body  is  rendered  more  apt ; and  on  the  contrary 
(by  the  same  Prop.  14,  Part  II.,  inversely,  and  by 
Props.  26  and  27),  that  which  renders  the  body  less 
apt  for  these  functions  is  hurtful,  q.  e.  d. 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY— FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  255 


PROP.  XXXIX. — IVliatever  assists  in  maintain- 
ing tlie  proper  ratio  between  the  movement 
and  repose  of  the  constitnent  parts  of  the  . p / . 

hnman  body  is  good ; and  on  the  eontrarv, 
whatever  disturbs  or  changes  this  proper 
ratio  is  bad. 

De:^ionstr. — The  human  body  lias  need  of  many 
other  bodies  for  its  preservation  (by  Post.  4,  Part  II.) ; 
but  that  which  constitutes  the  reality  or  form  (forma) 
of  the  human  body  consists  in  this  : that  the  several 
constituent  parts  of  the  body  communicate  their  re- 
spective motions  to  each  other  in  certain  definite  ra- 
tios (by  the  Def.  preceding  Lemma  4 following  Prop. 

13,  Part  II.).  Therefore,  whatever  tends  to  preserve 
the  proper  ratio  of  movement  and  repose  between  the 
several  parts  of  the  human  body,  tends  at  the  same 
time  to  preserve  the  reality  or  form  of  the  human 
body,  and  consequently  (by  Postulates  3 and  6,  Part 
II.)  makes  it  x)ossible  for  the  body  to  be  affected  in 
many  ways,  and  also  to  affect  external  bodies  in 
many  ways  ; and  this  (by  j) receding  Proj).)  is  good. 

Again,  whatever  causes  a different  ratio  of  move- 
ment and  repose  between  the  parts  of  the  human 
body,  gives  at  the  same  time  (by  same  Def.,  Part  II.) 
another  form  to  the  body  ; in  other  words  (as  is  self- 
evident,  and  as  has  been  stated  at  the  end  of  the 
Preface  to  this  Part),  the  body  is  destroyed,  and  con- 
sequently rendered  wholly  unfit  to  be  affected  in  any 
way  wdiat soever.  Therefore  (b}^  preceding  Prop.)  is 
this  bad.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — How  and  to  what  extent  these  things  may 
be  favorable  or  injurious  to  the  mind  or  soul,  will  be 
explained  in  the  Fifth  Part.  But  I have  here  to  re- 


2o6 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


mark  that  I understand  the  body  to  die  when  its 
])arts  are  so  disposed  that  they  acquire  another  and 
different  ratio  of  motion  and  rest  in  respect  of  each 
other.  I dare  not  deny,  however,  that  tlie  human 
body,  the  circulation  of  its  blood  being  retained  and 
tlie  other  conditions  or  processes  by  reason  of  which 
it  is  said  to  be  alive  being  duly  continued,  ma}' 
nevertheless  be  changed  and  assume  another  nature 
entirely  different  from  its  proper  nature.  For  there 
is  no  reason  for  me  to  think  that  the  body  does  not 
die  unless  it  be  changed  into  a corpse,  except  that 
experience  seems  to  persuade  to  the  contrary.  For  it 
sometimes  happens  that  a man  undergoes  such 
changes  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  that  he  was 
the  same  individual.  I have  lieard  tell  of  a S23anisli 
jioet  who  was  attacked  by  some  malady,  and  who. 
although  he  recovered  from  it,  yet  remained  so 
tlioroughly  forgetful  of  liis  past  life  that  he  did  not 
])elieve  that  the  fables  and  tragedies  he  had  written 
Avere  his,  and  who,  indeed,  might  have  been  regarded 
as  an  adult  infant  had  he  also  forgotten  his  native 
tongue.  And  if  this  appears  incredible,  Avhat  shall  Ave 
say  of  the  infant,  aa  hose  nature  the  man  of  mature  age 
thinks  so  different  from  his  own  that  he  could  not  be 
2)ersuaded  that  lie  too  had  once  been  an  infant,  if  he 
did  not  infer  so  much  from  observation  and  deduc- 
tion. 

But  I prefer  to  leai^e  this  subject  Avhere  it  is,  lest  I 
furnisli  the  suiierstitious  Avith  matter  for  new  ques- 
tions. 


PROP.  XL. — WliatcA  or  conduces  to  unite  men 
in  a common  society,  or  that  tends  to  make 
them  live  in  concord,  is  useful  or  good ; 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVEKY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOAS.  257 


and,  on  tlie  contrary,  Avliatever  brings  dis- 
cord into  the  coinninnity  or  State,  is  evil. 

Bemoxste. — For  whatever  makes  men  live  togetluM- 
ill  concord,  makes  them  at  the  same  time,  and  in  so 
far,  live  in  conformity  with  reason  (by  Prop.  35),  and 
is  therefore  good  tby  Props.  2G  and  27)  ; as,  on  tlu‘ 
contrary  (and  for  the  same  reason),  whatever  excites 
discord,  is  bad.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XLI. — Joy  {Iwtiti(i)  is  not  directly  cvib 
blit  is  good.  Sorrow  (tristitUi),  on  the  con- 
trary, is  directly  evil. 

Bemoxstk. — Joy  (by  Prop.  11  and  its  Schol.,  Part 
111.)  is  a passion  which  assists  or  increases  the  power 
of  the  body  to  act.  Sorrow,  on  the  contiary,  is  a 
passion  which  diminishes  or  restrains  it.  Therefore- 
joy  (by  Prop.  38j  is  directly  good,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XLII. — Gayety,  Cheerfulness  (Jnhiritdfi), 
can  have  no  excess,  bnt  is  always  good 
and  on  the  contrary.  Melancholy  {melan 
cliolUi)  is  always  CAil. 

Bemoxstr. — Gayety,  Cheerfulness  {cide  Bef.  in 
Schol.  to  Prop.  11,  Part  III.),  is  joy,  which,  in  so  far 
as  referred  to  the  body,  consists  in  this  : that  all  the- 
parts  of  the  body  are  alike  affected  ; that  is  to  say 
(by  Prop.  11,  Part  HI.),  that  the  poAver  of*  the  body 
to  act  is  increased  or  assisted,  and  in  such  a AA'ay  that 
all  its  x)arts  reciprocally  acquire  motion  and  i-est  in 
the  same  ratio  ; and  consequently  (by  Proj^.  39)., 
gayety  or  cheerfulness  is  always  good  and  cannot  be 
excessive.  But  Melancholy  (for  its  Bef.  vide  Schol.. 
to  Prop.  11,  Part  III.)  is  soitoaa^,  Avhich,  in  so  far  as. 
17 


258 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


r<‘f erred  to  tlie  body,  consists  in  this  : that  the  power 
ot  the  body  to  act  is  lessened  or  absolutely  re- 
strained ; consec<uently • (by  Prop.  38)  it  is  always 
evil.  Q.  E.  I). 


PROP.  XLIII. — Pleasure  (titillatio)  may  be  ex- 
cessive, and  in  so  far  as  it  is  excessive  may 
be  bad ; on  the  other  hand,  Pain  (dolor),  if 
not  excessive,  may  so  far  be  good,  just  as 
])leasnre  or  joy,  if  excessive,  may  be  bad. 

Demonstk. — Pleasure  {tUlllatlo)  is  joy,  which,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  referred  to  the  hody,  consists  in  this  : 
that  one  or  several  of  the  parts  of  the  body  are  more 
alfected  than  others  {vide  Def.  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  11, 
Part  HI.),  and  the  power  of  this  affection  may  be 
such  that  it  exceeds  the  rest  of  the  bodily  actions 
‘(by  Proj:).  6),  and  takes  such  hold  of  and  adheres  so 
tenaciously  to  the  body  that  it  is  rendered  less  apt  to 
be  affected  or  inlluenced  in  various  other  ways,  and 
thus  and  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  38)  this  affection  or  passion 
may  be  bad.  Pain,  which  on  the  contrary  is  a sor- 
row, considered  in  itself  alone  cannot  be  good  (by 
Pro]).  41).  But  as  its  force  and  increment  is  defined 
by  the  power  of  an  external  cause  compared  with  our 
■oAvn  inherent  power  (by  Prop,  o),  an  infinity  of  de- 
‘iTees  of  force  and  modes  of  the  affection  may  be 
conceived  (by  Pro]-).  3) ; so  that  we  may  even  conceive 
it  such  that  it  may  lestrain  bodily  pleasures  from 
becoming  excessive,  and  thus  (by  the  lirst  part  of  this 
demonstratioji)  bringing  it  to  jmss  that  the  body  shall 
not  be  rendered  less  apt  for  any  of  its  functions,  so 
tliat  in  so  far  Pain  may  be  good.  q.  e.  d. 


PATIT  IV. — SLAVERY — FOliCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  259 


PROP.  XLIY. — Love  and  Desire  may  be  ex- 
cessive. 

DemoxstPw — Love  is  a jo}-  (by  6 Del  Passions)  ac- 
companied by  tlie  idea  of  an  external  cause.  Pleasure, 
therefore  (by  Scliol.  to  Proj).  11,  Part  ITL),  associated 
with  the  idea  of  an  external  cause,  is  love ; conse- 
(piently  love  (by  jireceding  Proji.)  may  be  excessive. 
Again,  desire  is  as  great  as  the  affection  itself  out  of 
which  it  arises  is  great  (by  Prop.  37,  Part  III.).  Where- 
fore, as  one  affection  may  (by  Prop.  6)  surpass  the 
other  actions  in  force,  so  may  the  desire  which  arises 
out  of  that  particular  affection  exceed  the  force  of* 
other  desires,  and  hence  it  is  subject  to  the  same  ex- 
cess as  is  pleasure — as  shown  in  the  preceding  Propo- 
sition. Q.  E.  D. 

SciioL. — Cheerfulness  (Jiilarifas)^  which  I have 
called  good,  is  more  easily  conceived  than  observed. 
For  the  emotions  by  which  we  are  so  constantly  agitated 
are  mostl}^  referable  to  some  part  of  the  body  affected 
in  a greater  degree  than  the  other  parts,  and  hence  by 
such  an  affection,  which  is  usually  excessive,  the  soul 
is  kept  to  the  contemi:)lation  of  one  object  so  fixedly 
that  it  can  think  of  no  others  ; and  although  men  ar(^ 
subject  to  mau}^  passions,  so  that  we  rarely  meet  with 
any  one  who  is  agitated  always  by  one  and  the  same 
passion  only,  yet  instances  are  not  infrequent  of  those 
to  whom  some  one  passion  pertinaciously  adheres. 
And  indeed  men  have  sometimes  been  seen  so  affected 
by  one  object,  that  although  it  was  not  present  befoi'e 
them,  yet  have  they  believed  that  it  was  ; and  when 
this  happens  to  a man  not  asleep,  we  say  he  is  delirious 
or  insane.  Xor  are  they  thought  to  be  less  insane, 
who,  burning  with  love,  dream  day  and  night  of  their 
mistress  or  the  object  of  their  lov(%  although  their 


260 


spixoza's  ethics. 


])assioii  may  move  iis  to  laughter.  Wlieii  the  miser, 
liowever,  thinks  of  nothing  but  lucre  and  his  gains  ; 
the  ambitious  man  of  nothing  but  glory,  etc.,  they 
are  not  said  to  be  demented,  although  they  are  wont 
to  be  troublesome,  and  are  regarded  as  deserving  of 
odium.  Nevertheless,  Avarice,  Ambition,  Lust,  etc., 
are  really  species  of  delirium,  although  not  numbered 
among  diseases. 

l^ROP.  XLV. — Hate  can  never  be  good. 

Demo^^stk. — We  would  be  disposed  to  injure  or  de- 
stroy a man  whom  we  hate  (by  Prop.  39,  Part  III.)  ; 
that  is  (by  Prop.  37),  we  would  attempt  something 
that  is  bad  ; therefore,  hate  can  never  be  good. 

Q.  E.  n. 

ScnoL.  1. — Observe  that  here  and  in  what  follow's, 
I only  speak  of  Hate  with  reference  to  man. 

Coroll.  1. — En\y,  Derision,  Contempt,  Anger, 
Revenge,  and  the  other  affections  or  passions  referred 
to  hate,  or  arising  from  it,  are  all  bad  ; as  also  appears 
by  Prop.  39,  Part  III.,  and  Prop.  37  of  this  Part. 

Coroll.  2. — All  that  w^e  desire  wdien  w^e  are  moved 
by  hate  is  base  {hirpis)  in  itself,  and  in  the  civil  state 
unjust ; as  also  appears  by  Prop.  39,  Part  III.,  and 
by  the  Definition  of  the  terms  disltonorcible  or  hase^ 
and  unjust,  wdiich  see  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  37,  this 
Part. 

ScnoL.  2. — I recognize  a great  difference  betw^een 
derision  (wdiich  in  Coroll.  1 above,  is  termed  bad)  and 
laughter  or  jest.  For  laughter  and  jest  are  a kind  of 
Joy  ; and  so,  if  tliej^  are  only  not  excessive,  are  good 
{by  Prop.  41).  Nothing,  indeed,  but  a sour  and 
gloom}"  superstition  forbids  us  to  amuse  and  enjoy 
ourselves.  For  wdiy  should  it  be  thought  more  seemly 
ur  right  to  satisfy  hunger  and  thirst,  than  to  drive 


PART  IT.  — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  261 


away  melancholy  ? This  is  my  view,  and  reason  leads 
to  it.  No  deity,  none  but  an  envious  being,  could 
take  pleasure  in  my  helplessness  and  suffering ; nor 
do  our  tears  and  sobs  and  fears,  and  other  like  affec- 
tions, whicli  are  but  signs  of  a feeble  or  impotent 
spirit,  ever  lead  us  to  virtuous  conduct ; on  the  con- 
trary, the  more  joyfully  we  feel,  the  higher  is  the 
state  of  i^erfection  to  which  we  pass,-— in  other  words, 
the  more  do  Ave  necessarily  participate  in  the  Diviiu' 
nature.  It  is  therefore  wise  in  man  to  use  and  enjoy 
the  good  things  of  life  in  so  far  as  he  may  (not  Iioav- 
ever  to  satiety  or  disgust,  for  this  is  not  enjoyment). 
It  is  AAuse,  I say,  for  man  to  refresh  and  recreate  him- 
self by  moderate  use  of  ngreeable  food  and  drink,  to 
take  delight  in  sAveet  perfumes  and  beautiful  plants 
and  floAvers,  to  dress  tastefully  and  becomingly,  to 
cultivate  the  art  of  music,  to  join  in  athletic  sjiorts 
and  games,  to  visit  the  theatre  and  indulge  in  other 
like  diversions,  all  of  Avhich  may  be  done  Avithout 
injury  to  others.  For  the  human  body  is  composed 
of  many  parts  of  diverse  nature,  Avhich  continually 
need  neAv  and  varied  aliment,  in  order  that  the  Avhole 
body  may  be  equally  apt  for  everything  Avhereof  by 
its  nature  it  is  capable,  and  consequently  that  the  soul 
also  may  be  alike  apt  to  understand  and  feel  interest 
in  many  things.  This  course  of  life,  therefore,  ac- 
cords entirely  AAUtli  my  doctrines,  and  Avith  common 
practice  also  ; and  on  this  account,  if  there  are  other 
and  different  rules  of  life,  I believe  the  one  I have  here 
set  forth  to  be  the  best,  and  every  Avay  to  be  com- 
mended ; so  that  I do  not  think  it  necessary  to  say 
more  on  the  subject. 

PlIOP.  XLYI.— He  who  Hags  under  the  gui- 
dance of  reason  strives  to  the  extent  of  his 


262 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


jiower  to  repay  the  hatred,  anger,  con- 
tempt, etc.,  of  others,  with  love  and  gen- 
erosity. 

Demonstk. — All  the  passions  that  are  referred  to 
hate  are  bad  (by  Coroll.  1,  preceding  Prop.),  and  tliere- 
fore  he  who  lives  in  conformit}^  with  reason  strives  as 
nincli  as  possible  to  escape  being  inllnenced  by  sncli 
])assions  (by  Prop.  19),  and  consequently  (by  Proji. 
87)  endeavors  that  another  shall  not  suffer  from  them. 
•But  hate  is  increased  by  reciprocated  hate,  ami,  on 
the  contrary,  may  be  extingnished  by  love  (by  Prop. 
43,  Part  III.),  so  that  hate  ma}^  even  be  turned  into 
love  (by  Prop.  44,  Part  III.).  Therefore  he  Avho  lives 
according  to  the  dictates  of  reason  endeavors  to  repay 
the  hate,  etc.,  of  others  with  love,  i.e.  with  generosity 
(for  the  Def.  of  which,  vide  Scliol.  to  Prop.  59,  Part 
III.).  Q.  E.  D. 

ScnoL. — He  who  avenges  injuries  by  returning  hate 
for  hate  will  surely  live  miserably.  Whilst,  on  the 
contrar}^,  he  Avho  strives  to  efface  liate  by  love  con- 
tends joyfully  and  rationally,  opposes  a mnltifude  as 
easily  as  he  does  a single  individual,  and  is  as  little 
dependent  as  possible  on  Fortune’s  aid.  Besides, 
those  whom  he  vanquishes  yield  to  him  joyfully — not 
because  of  weakness,  but  of  increased  strength.  These 
conclusions  follow  so  clearly  from  the  Definitions  of 
Love  and  Understanding  alone,  that  it  seems  unneces- 
sary to  demonstrate  each  one  of  them  separately. 

IHIOP.  XLYII. — Tlie  passions  of  Hope  and 
Fear  cannot  of  themselves  be  good. 

Demoxstr. — Hope  and  fear  are  jiassions  insepara- 
ble from  sorrow.  For  fear  (by  13  Def.  of  Passions)  is 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOYS.  263 


a kind  of  sorrow,  and  hope  {vide  explanation  to  12 
and  13  Defs.  of  the  Passions)  is  not  nnaccoini^anied 
by  fear.  Hence  it  follows  (by  Pro^^.  41)  that  these 
passions  cannot  of  themselves  be  good,  but  only  in  so 
far  as  they  may  restrain  excessive  joy  (by  Prop.  43). 

Q.  E.  1). 

ScTTOL. — To  this  it  must  be  added,  that  these  pas- 
sions indicate  a want  of  true  knowledge  and  impo- 
teiicy  of  soul.  For  this  reason,  also,  Security,  De- 
spair, Gladness  {gaudium)  and  Pemorse,  are  signs  of 
an  impotent  sonl.  For  although  security  and  glad- 
ness are  j)assions  related  to  joy,  they  nevertheless 
suppose  a previous  sorrow,  namely,  hope  and  fear. 
The  more,  therefore,  we  try  to  live  according  to  the 
dictates  of  reason  the  less  do  we  depend  on  hope,  the 
more  do  we  free  ourselves  from  fear,  the  more  do  we 
strive  as  far  as  possible  to  command  fortune,  and  to 
direct  our  actions  conformabl}'  to  the  sure  counsels  of 
reason. 

PROP.  XLYIII. — Laudation  {cxistimatio)  and 
Depreciation  (despectus)  are  always  bad. 

Demoxstr. — For  these  passions  (by  21  and  22  Deb’, 
of  Passions)  are  repugnant  to  reason,  and  are  there- 
fore bad  (by  Props.  28  and  27).  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XLIX. — Flattery  (cxistimatio)  is  apt  to 
make  the  man  who  is  tlie  recipient  of  it 
vainglorious  and  proud. 

Demoxstr. — If  any  one  pays  us  more  respect  or 
attention,  or  praises  us  more  than  is  proper,  we  feel 
I^leased,  and  are  easily  disposed  to  glorify  oun elves 
(by  Schol.  to  Prop.  41,  Part  III.),  and  (by  30  Def. 
Passions)  readily  believe  all  the  good  we  hear  said  of 


204 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


ourselves  (by  Prop.  25,  Part  III.).  Whence  it  comes 
that  through  self-love  we  think  more  highly  of  our- 
selves than  is  just ; in  other  w'ords  (by  28  Def.  Pas- 
sions), we  easily  become  vainglorious  and  proud. 

(^  E.  D. 

PEOP.  L. — Coniniiseration  is  in  itself  evil  and 
useless  to  the  man  who  Ha  es  according  to 
the  dictates  of  reason. 

Dealoxste. — For  commiseration  is  a kind  of  sorrow 
(by  18  Def.  Pass.),  and  therefore  (by  Prop.  41)  bad  in 
itself.  The  good  that  flows  from  it  is  the  effort  that 
we  nuike  to  free  the  man  who  is  the  object  of  our  pity 
from  his  misery  (by  Coroll.  3 to  Proj).  27,  Part  III.), 
and  this  effort  results  from  the  dictates  of  reason 
alone  (by  Prop.  37)  ; nor  can  we  do  anything  that  we 
know  for  certain  to  be  good,  save  by  the  dictates  of 
1‘eason  (by  Prop.  27).  Therefore,  in  the  man  Avhose 
life  is  guided  by  reason,  commiseration  is  in  itself  bad 
and  useless.  Q.  e.  n. 

CoKOLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  the  man  who  lives 
conformably  to  reason  endeavors  as  much  as  possible 
not  to  be  moved  or  influenced  by  pity  or  commisera- 
tion. 

ScnoL. — He  avIio  rightly  understands  that  all  things 
follow  from  the  necessity  of  the  Divine  nature  and 
accoi'ding  to  eternal  laws,  Avill  never  meet  Avith  aiiA'- 
thing  worthy  of  hate,  mockery,  or  contempt ; nor  Avill 
he  commiserate  any  one  ; but  in  so  far  as  comports 
with  human  virtue  he  endeavors  to  do  Avell,  and,  as 
the  saying  is,  Ho  go  on  his  AAmy  rejoicing.’  To  this 
let  me  add  that  the  man  who  is  easily  touHied  by  pity 
and  moved  by  the  tears  and  miseries  of  others,  often 
does  things  Avhich  he  afterwards  regrets  ; and  this  is 


PART  IV.— SLAVERY— FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  265 


because  we  can  seldom,  when  actuated  by  a mere 
passion  or  sentiment,  do  anything  that  we  know  for 
certain  to  be  good  ; and,  further,  because  we  are 
easily  deceived  by  false  tears  and  tales.  Here  it  is  to 
be  expressly  understood  that  I am  siieaking  of  the 
man  who  lives  according  to  the  dictates  of  reason  ; for 
he  who  is  neither  moved  by  reason  nor  pity  to  be 
lielpfnl  to  others,  is  rightly  called  inhuman;  for,  in- 
deed (by  Prop.  27,  Part  III.),  such  a man  seems  to  be 
unlike  other  men. 

PllOP.  LI. — Partiality  {favor')  is  not  repugnant 
to  reason,  but  may  agree  with  and  arise 
from  it. 

Demoxstr. — For  partiality  is  love  for  one  who  does 
good  to  others  (by  19  Def.  Pass.),  and  consequently  it 
may  be  refeiaed  to  the  soul  in  so  far  as  the  soul  may 
be  said  to  act  (by  Prop.  59,  Part  HI.),  that  is  (by 
Prop.  3,  Part  III.),  in  so  far  as  it  understands  ; and 
so  partiality  agrees  with  reason,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

Axotiier  Demoxstr. — He  who  is  guided  by  reason 
finds  it  good  that  what  he  desires  for  himself  should 
also  be  desired  by  another  (by  Prop.  37).  Wherefore 
when  he  sees  one  benefiting  others  he  is  himself 
stimulated  to  beneficence  ; in  other  Avords  (by  Prop. 
11,  Part  III.),  he  feels  pleasure,  Avhich  (by  hypothe- 
sis) is  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  the  person  avIio  is 
benefiting  others  ; and  thus  (by  19  Def.  Pass.)  he  has 
a liking  or  partiality  for  him.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Indignation,  as  defined  by  ns  {vide  20 
Def.  Pass.),  is  necessarily  evil  (by  Prop.  45).  But  it 
is  to  be  observed  that  I do  not  say  that  the  supreme 
authority  is  moved  by  indignation  wdien,  desiring 
to  maintain  peace  in  the  State,  it  punishes  a citizen 


266 


SI’IXOZA’s  ethics. 


who  lias  wronged  anotlier ; because  the  supreme 
] lower  is  not  incited  by  hate  to  destroy  an  offending 
citizen,  but  is  moved  by  justice  and  duty  to  society 
to  punish  liim. 


PEOP.  Lir. — Acquiescence,  Contentment  (ae- 
quicsccntiu may  proceed  from  reason  ; and 
the  eontentment  or  peace  of  mind  wliicli 
arises  from  reason  alone  is  tlie  highest  tliat 
man  can  attain. 


De^^ioxste. — Contentment  is  the  joy  that  arises  fj'orri 
man’s  contem])lation  of  himself  and  his  powers  of 
action  (by  25  Def.  Pass.).  But,  in  fact,  man’s  power 
of  action  or  virtue  is  reason  itself  (by  Prop.  3,  Part 
III.),  which  he  contemplates  clearly  and  distinctly 
(by  Props.  40  and  43,  Part  II.).  Therefore  does  con- 
tentment arise  from  i-eason  itself.  Again,  in  contem- 
})lating  himself  man  nothing  clearly  and 

distinctly  or  adequatel}^  except  those  things  which 
follow  from  his  power  of  action  (by  Def.  2,  Part  III.), 
that  is  (by  Prop.  3,  Part  III.),  from  his  of  un- 

derstanding. Consequently,  from  this  self-contem- 
plation alone  does  the  highest  possible  degree  of  con- 
tentment or  peace  of  mind  take  its  rise.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Self-content  or  acquiescence  is  indeed  the 
sum  of  all  we  can  hope  for  in  life.  For  (as  shown  in 
Prop.  25)  no  one  strives  to  preserve  his  being  for  any 
other  end  than  himself ; and  as  self-content  is  more 
and  more  confirmed  and  strengthened  by  commenda- . 
tion  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  53,  Part  IIP),  and  on  the 
contrary  (by  Coroll.  1 to  Prop.  55,  Part  III.),  is  more 
and  more  disturbed  by  blame,  therefore  are  we  most 
of  all  allured  by  praise,  and  can  hardly  endure  life 
with  disgrace  and  opprobrium. 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  267 


PKOP.  LlII. — Humility  is  not  a virtue  ; in 
other  words,  it  does  not  spring  from 
reason. 

Demo:^7Str. — Humility  is  a sorrow  that  arises  from 
mail's  contemplation  of  liis  own  impotency  (by  26 
Hef.  Pass.).  In  so  far,  lioAvever,  as  a man  has  a 
reasonable  knoAvledge  of  himself,  in  so  far  is  lie  sup- 
posed to  understand  his  own  essence  or  being,  that  is 
to  say  (by  Prox).  7,  Part  III.),  his  own  x)Ower  or  abil- 
\ty.  Wherefore  if  a man  in  considering  himself  be- 
comes aware  of  any  incaxiacity,  this  does  not  come 
from  the  understanding  or  knowledge  he  has  of  him- 
self, but  (as  shoAvn  in  Prop.  65,  Part  HI.)  because  of 
his  jiower  of  action  being  restrained.  But  if  Ave 
suxipose  a man  to  conceive  himself  incapable  because 
of  his  understanding  that  there  is  a capacity  greater 
than  his  OAvn,  the  knoAviedge  of  AAdiich  determines  his 
OAvn  xiOAver  of  action,  then  do  aa^o  conceiA^e  nothing 
else  than  that  the  man  distinctly  understands  him- 
self (by  Pro]!.  26),  and  thereby  is  his  x^OAA^er  of  action 
aided.  Therefore  humility  or  the  sorroAA"  that  arises 
from  man’s  contemplating  his  OAAm  imxiotence,  does 
not  xu'oceed  from  true  retlection  or  reason,  and  is  not 
a Aurtue  but  a passion,  q.  e.  d. 

PIIOP.  LIY. — Pexieutauce  is  not  a virtue,  or 
does  not  arise  from  reason ; on  the  con- 
trary, he  who  rexients  of  any  act  he  lias 
done  is  twice  miserable  or  impotent. 

Heaionstr. — The  first  part  of  tliis  xiroposidon  is 
demonstrated  in  the  same  Avay  as  the  xireceding  one. 
The  second  xi^^rt  of  it  is  self-evident  from  the  very 
definition  of  rexientance  (vide  27  Hef.  Pass.).  The 


268 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


penitent  first  suffers  liimself  to  be  led  by  a depraved 
or  wrong  desire,  and  is  next  subdued  by  sorrow. 

ScnoL. — Because  men  so  rarely  live  according  to  tlie 
dictates  of  reason,  therefore  these  two  passions  of  hu- 
mility and  repentance,  together  with  those  of  hope 
and  fear,  are  more  useful  than  detrimental, — and  so 
if  men  are  to  sin  at  all  it  is  best  that  they  sin  in  a 
way  that  admits  of  repentance  and  humility.  For  if 
men  of  feeble  souls  were  all  alike  proud  and  arro- 
gant, felt  no  shame  for  anything  they  did,  and  had 
no  fears,  by  what  means  could  they  be  controlled  and 
held  in  check  ? A mob  terrifies  when  it  has  no  fear. 
Wherefore  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  Prophets  of 
old,  who  consulted  the  common  welfare  and  not  the 
interests  of  a few,  so  highly  commended  humility,  re- 
j)entance,  and  reverence.  And  they,  indeed,  who  are 
subject  to  these  affections  are  much  more  easily  led 
to  live  at  length  according  to  reason  than  those  who 
are  not — that  is,  to  live  in  freedom  and  enjoy  the  life 
of  the  blessed. 

PROP.  LV. — Excessive  Arrogance  {superhia) 
or  excessive  Abjectness  {ahjcctio)  are  in- 
dicative of  complete  ignorance  of  self. 

Demonstr. — This  is  manifest  by  the  28th  and  29th 
Definitions  of  the  Passions. 

PROP.  LYI. — Excessive  Arrogance  or  excessive 
Abjectness  indicates  extreme  impotence  of 
soul. 

Demonstr. — The  first  foundation  of  virtue  is  the 
preservation  of  our  own  being  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop. 


PAirr  IV.— SLAVERY— FOKCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  269 


22)  in  conformity  to  the  dictates  of  reason  (by  Prop. 
24).  He  who  knows  not  himself  is  ignorant  of  the 
foundation  of  all  virtue,  and  consequently  of  all  the 
virtues.  Besides,  to  act  virtuously  is  nothing  more 
than  to  act  according  to  the  dictates  of  reason  (by 
Prop.  24),  and  he  who  acts  according  to  these  dictates 
necessarily  knows  that  he  acts  according  to  reason 
(by  Prop.  43,  Part  II.).  He,  therefore,  who  is  in  the 
highest  degree  ignorant  of  himself,  and  consequently 
(as  we  have  just  shown)  ignorant  of  all  the  virtues, 
can  never  act  virtnonsl}^ ; in  other  words  dis  mani- 
fest by  Hef.  8),  his  soul  is  impotent  in  the  highest  de- 
gree ; so  that  excessive  arrogance  or  excessive  abject- 
ness indicates  extreme  impotency  of  soul.  q.  e.  o. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  clearly  follows  that  the  arrogant 
and  the  abject  are  those  who  are  most  under  the  do- 
minion of  the  passions. 

SciiOL. — Abject  ness,  however,  ma\’  be  more  easily 
corrected  than  arrogance,  seeing  that  the  foi-mer  is  nn 
affection  of  sorrow,  while  arrogance  is  referable  to 
joy,  which  (by  Prop.  18)  is  a more  potent  passion 
than  sorrow. 


IHIOP.  LYII. — The  proud,  arrogant  man  {su- 
pcrlnis)  loves  to  be  surrounded  by  parasites 
or  flatterers,  and  hates  frank,  plain-dealing 
men  {(jencrosi^. 

Demoxstp.. — Arrogance  [superMa)  is  a joy  arising 
from  this  : that  a man  thinks  more  highly  of  himself 
than  is  just  (by  28  and  6 Def.  of  Pass.),  which  opinion 
the  arrogant  man  endeavors  as  much  as  possible  to 
cherish  {inde  Schol.  to  Prop.  13,  Part  III.).  There- 


270 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


fore  he  loves  the  presence  of  parasites  or  flatterers 
(deflnitjons  of  whom  I omit,  as  they  are  well  known), 
and  shuns  the  fraidv  and  plain-dealing  who  estimate 
Jjim  at  his  true  worth,  q.  e.  d. 

SciroL. — It  would  take  too  long  to  enumerate  all  the 
evils  of  pride  and  arrogance  ; for  the  proud  and  arro- 
gant are  obnoxious  to  all  the  passions,  but  are  moved 
by  none  less  than  by  love  and  pity.  But  I must  not 
omit  to  say  that  he  also  is  called  arrogant  or  proud 
who  thinks  less  of  others  than  is  just ; and  in  this 
sense  arrogance  or  pride  should  be  defined  as  a kind 
of  joy  arising  from  a false  opinion  which  a man  en- 
tertains that  he  is  better  than  others  ; whilst  abjec- 
’ tion  or  humility,  which  is  the  opposite  of  j)ride  or  ar- 
rogance, should  be  defined  as  a sorrow  arising  from  a 
false  opinion  which  leads  a man  to  believe  that  he  is 
inferior  to  others.  This  established,  we  readily  con- 
ceive that  an  arrogant  man  is  necessarilj"  envious  of 
others  (vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  55,  Part  III.),  hates 
above  all  those  who  are  most  praised  for  their  virtues, 
does  not  readily  suffer  his  dislikes  to  be  overcome  by 
love  and  kindness  (vide  Schol.  to  Pj'op.  41,  Part  III.), 
and  only  takes  pleasure  in  the  company  of  those  who 
by  their  behavior  towards  him  foster  his  im potency 
of  soul,  and  from  the  fool  that  he  is  make  a crazy 
man  of  him. 

Abjectness,  although  the  opposite  of  arrogance, 
is  yet  near  akin  to  it.  For  though  the  abject 
man  experiences  sorrow  arising  from  the  contrast 
which  he  judges  to  exist  between  his  own  imjiotency 
and  the  power  or  virtue  of  others,  yet  is  his  grief 
lessened,  that  is  to  say,  it  gives  place  to  joy  as  soon 
as  his  imagination  is  occu])ied  in  contemi:>lating  the 
vices  or  faults  of  others, — whence  the  proverb  : Sola- 
men  miseris  socios  liabidsse  mcdontm  (The  wretched 


PART  IV.— SLAVERY— FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS-  271 


find  comfort  in  tlie  misfortunes  of  others).  On  the 
other  hand,  the  greater  will  be  tlie  grief  of  tbe  abject 
man  the  more  he  is  led  to  believe  liimself  inferior  to 
others.  Hence  it  conies  to  pass  that  none  are  more 
prone  to  envy  than  the  abject,  none  more  disposed  to 
watch  the  actions  of  tlieir  fellow-men  with  a view  of 
carping  at  their  faults  ratber  than  of  correcting  tbem, 
and,  linally,  to  vaunt  and  extol  their  OAvn  abjectness 
or  humility,  but  still  in  such  a way  as  to  ajipear 
humble.  These  results  follow  as  necessarily  from 
this  affection  or  ]r)assion  as  from  tbe  nature  of  the  tri- 
angle it  follows  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  tAvo 
right  angles  ; and  I have  already  said  that  Avhen  I de- 
signate this  and  similar  ])assions  as  evil,  I am  con- 
sidering human  usefulness  only.  But  the  hiAvs  of  na- 
ture have  regard  to  the  general  order  of  nature,  of 
which  man  is  a ; ‘tiid  this  I desire  to  mention 
in  passing,  lest  it  should  be  thought  that  it  AA^as  my 
intention  here  to  speak  of  the  vices  and  {oolish  ac-' 
tions  of  men,  and  not  to  demonstrate  the  nature  and 
])roperties  of  things.  In  the  Pipface  to  the  Third 
Part,  liojveA'er,  I have  said  that  I inwstigate  tbe  bu- 
man  passions  and  their  properties  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  I do  all  natural  things.  And  certainly  the  hu- 
man passions  proclaim  the  art  and  poAver  of  nature, 
if  not  of  man,  no  less  than  a multitude  of  other  things 
Avliich  vA^e  admire,  and  in  the  contemplation  of  Avhich 
Ave  take  delight.  But  I pioceed  Avitli  my  examina- 
tion of  the  passions,  and  of  Avhat  there  is  in  them 
useful  or  injurious  to  mankind. 

“The  text  of  the  oiifrinal  edinou,  1C77,  reads  ut  uulli  ad  Ivxidiam 
fiint  pro7ii  ; hut  in  the  tphalmaia  corrigenda  at  the  end  of  the  volume, 
it  is  corrected  to  read,  indli  wagis  ad,  etc.  Saisset  overlooked  this,  or 
he  would  not  have  appended  the  note  to  his  French  translation,  p. 
233,  tome  III.  Ed.  1861.— Tk. 


272 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  LVITT. — Glory  is  not  repugnant  to 
reason,  but  may  arise  from  it. 

Demoxste. — This  appears  in  the  30th  Definition  of 
the  Passions,  and  in  the  definition  of  Honor  {Ttonea- 
ias) — whicli  see  in  S(dio].  1 to  Prop.  37. 

SciiOL. — What  is  called  vaingloiy  is  that  acqui- 
escence or  self-content  which  is  fostered  by  mere  vul- 
gar opinion  ; for  this  ceasing,  the  self -content,  in 
other  words  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  52),  tlie  summiun 
honuin  which  every  one  loves,  ceases  also.  Whence 
it  happens  that  he  who  glories  in  a favorable  public 
opinion  bears  a daily  burden  of  anxiety  and  makes 
constant  efforts  to  preserve  his  fame  ; for  the  mass 
are  changeable  and  inconstant,  and  unless  his  cele- 
brity is  maintained  and  supported  it  soon  decays  and 
])asses  away.  And  inasmuch  as  among  those  who 
strive  to  win  public  applause,  it  is  easy  for  some  one 
of  them  to  eclipse  the  fame  of  another  and  in  the 
struggle  obtain  that  to  which  each  aspires  as  the 
summiun  hoiium  of  life,  there  arises  a strong  desire 
to  overthrow  or  strike  down  each  other,  and  he  who 
at  length  emerges  victorious  from  the  strife  is  often 
more  elated  by  the  injury  he  has  done  to  a rival  than 
b}"  any  advantage  he  has  gained  for  himself.  Such 
glory,  such  self -content  is  therefore  vain  indeed,  for 
it  has  no  reality. 

AVhat  might  be  remarked  in  regard  to  Shame 
{pudor)  is  readily  to  be  gathered  from  what  has  been 
said  touching  pity  and  repentance.  I only  add,  that 
as  it  is  with  commiseiation,  so  is  it  also  Avith  shame,  \ 
Avhich,  although  it  is  no  virtue,  is  yet  good,  inasmuch  ) 
as  it  indicates  that  the  man  Avhose  face  is  suffused 
through  shame  still  feels  desirous  to  live  honestly 
and  virtuously,  even  as  pain  in  a Avounded  part  may 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  273 


in  so  far  be  said  to  be  good  as  it  indicates  that  morti- 
fication lias  not  set  in.  Wherefore,  although  the 
man  who  has  done  something  of  which  he  feels 
ashamed  suffers  sorrow  and  rej)entance  therefor,  still 
is  he  far  better  than  the  impudent  or  shameless  man 
who  feels  no  compunction  and  has  no  desire  to  live 
an  honest  and  proper  life. 

Snell  are  the  views  I have  undertaken  to  set  forth 
in  reference  to  the  passions  of  Joy  and  Sorrow. 

As  regards  the  desires  generally,  they  are  either 
good  or  evil  according  as  they  arise  from  good  or  evil 
passions.  But  all  of  them,  in  so  far  as  they  originate 
in  ourselves  from  affections  which  are  passions,  are 
blind  (as  may  readily  be  gathered  from  what  has  been 
said  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  44),  and  would  be  of  no 
utility  if  men  could  easily  be  induced  to  live  wholly 
by  the  dictates  of  reason,  as  I shall  now  briefly 
show. 

PKOPi  LIX. — All  actions  to  which  we  are  de- 
termined by  an  affection  which  is  a pas- 
sion, we  may  also  be  determined  to  inde- 
pendently of  this  passion,  by  reason. 

.T)e:\[oxstr. — To  act  from  reason  is  only  to  do  those- 
things  that  result  from  the  necessity  of  our  nature 
considered  in  itself  (by  Prop.  3 and  Def.  2,  Part  III.).. 
But  sorrow^  is  evil  in  so  far  as  it  diminishes  or  sup- 
liresses  our  power  of  action  (by  Prop.  41).  Therefore 
we  cannot  be  determined  by  this  affection  or  passion 
to  do  any  act  which  we  would  not  be  capable  of  doing 
if  led  by  reason.  Even  joy,  too,  is  evil,  but  only  in 
so  far  as  it  prevents  or  makes  man  less  capable  of 
acting  (by  Props.  41  and  43)  ; consequently  joy  can- 
not determine  us  to  any  action  which  we  would  not 
18 


274 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


be  capable  of  if  led  by  reason.  Lastly,  insofar  as 
joy  is  good,  in  so  far  does  it  accord  with  reason  (for 
it  agrees  with  it  in  this  : that  it  assists  in  augmenting 
or  strengthening  man’s  power  of  action);  and  it  is 
not  a passion  unless  and  except  in  so  far  as  it  fails  to 
augment  man’s  power  of  action  so  that  he  does  not 
adequately  conceive  himself  and  his  actions  (by  Prop. 
3 and  its  SchoL,  Part  III.).  Wherefore,  if -man  were 
brought  by  the  passion  of  joy  to  such  a state  of  per- 
fection that  he  conceived  himself  and  his  actions  ade- 
quately, he  would  become  apt,  yes,  far  more  apt,  for 
the  actions  to  which  he  might  be  determined  by  the 
affections  which  are  passions.  But  all  passions  are 
referable  to  J oy.  Sorrow,  or  Desire  ((pide  explanation 
to  4 Def.  Pass.) ; and  desire  (by  1 Def.  Pass.)  is  itself 
nothing  but  the  effort  to  act.  Therefore  all  the  ac- 
tions to  which  we  may  be  determined  by  an  affection 
which  is  a passion,  Tve  may  also  be  led  to  perform  by 
reason  only.  q.  e.  d. 

Anothee  Dehonste. — An  action  is  called  bad  in 
so  far  as  it  arises  from  hate  or  any  other  evil  passion 
by  which  we  are  affected  {pide  Coroll.  1 to  Prop.  45). 
But  no  action  considered  in  itself  alone  is  either  good 
or  bad  (as  we  have  shown  in  the  Preface  to  this  Part), 
but  one  and  the  same  action  may  be  sometimes  good, 
sometimes  bad.  Wherefore  even  reason  may  lead  us 
to  an  action  which  is  sometimes  bad,  or  which  is  bad 
when  it  arises  from  some  bad  passion  (by  Prop.  19). 

Q.  E.  D. 

ScHOL. — Let  me  explain  this  more  clearly  by  an 
example.  The  act  of  striking,  considered  physically 
and  with  regard  only  to  the  fact  that  a man  raises  his 
arm,  clenches  his  hand,  and  brings  it  down  with 
force,  is  a power  which  is  conceived  by  the  mechan- 
ism of  the  human  body.  If,  therefore,  a man  is 


PART  lY.— SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  275 


moved  by  anger  or  bate  to  clench  liis  fist  and  move 
his  arm  as  in  striking,  this  comes  to  pass,  as  I have 
shown  in  the  Second  Part,  because  with  one  and  the 
same  action  images  of  various  things  may  be  asso- 
ciated, so  that  we  may  be  determined  to  one  and  the 
same  action  by  those  imaginations  of  things  which 
we  conceive  confusedly,  as  well  as  by  those  which  we 
conceive  clearly  and  distinctly.  It  therefore  appears 
that  every  desire  tliat  arises  from  an  affection  which 
is  a passion  would  be  useless  if  man  was  always  led 
by  his  reason.  Let  us  how  see  why  desire  that  arises 
from  an  affection  which  is  a passion  is  by  us  called 
Mind. 

PEOP.  LX. — The  desire  which  springs  from 
joy  or  sorrow  and  is  referred  to  one  or  to 
several  but  not  to  all  the  parts  of  the  body, 
has  no  reference  to  utility  as  regards  the 
whole  man. 

Demonstr. — Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  A, 
a part  of  the  body,  is  so  invigorated  by  the  action  of 
an  external  cause  that  it  prevails  over  or  has  greater 
power  than  the  other  parts  (by  Prop.  6), — this  part  A 
will  not  endeavor  to  lessen  its  power  in  order  that  the 
other  parts  may  duly  perform  their  functions,  for 
this  would  imply  that  it  had  of  itself  the  ability  to 
lose  its  power,  which  (by  Prop.  6,  Part  III.)  is  ab- 
surd. The  part  A of  the  body,  therefore,  and  conse- 
quently (by  Props.  7 and  12,  Part  III.)  the  soul  also, 

' will  strive  to  preserve  their  state  or  condition  of  being  ; 
hence  the  desire  that  arises  from  such  a i3assion  of 
joy  has  no  reference  to  the  whole  of  the  body.  For 
if,  on  the  contrary,  the  power  of  the  part  A is  sup- 
posed to  be  coerced  or  lessened,  so  that  the  other 


276 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


parts  prevail  over  it,  it  may  be  demonstrated  in  tlie 
same  way  that  neither  does  the  desire  which  springs 
from  sorrow  have  reference  to  the  whole  of  the  parts 
of  the  body.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Since  joy,  therefore  (by  Scliol.  to  Prop. 
44),  is  mostly  referable  to  one  part  of  the  body,  there- 
fore do  we  mostly  desire  to  preserve  onr  state  of  being 
without  reference  to  the  healthy  constitution  of  our 
body  as  a whole.  To  which  it  may  be  added,  that 
the  desires  by  which  we  are  most  strongly  possessed 
have  reference  to  the  present  time  only,  not  to  the 
future  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  9). 

PROP.  LXI. — Desire  that  arises  from  reason 
cannot  be  exeessiye. 

Demoxstr. — Desire  considered  absolutely  (by  1 
Def.  Pass.)  is  the  very  essence  of  man,  conceived  as  de- 
termined to  action  in  whatsoever  manner.  Hence  the 
desire  that  arises  from  reason,  that  is  to  say  (by  Prop. 
8,  Part  III.),  which  is  engendered  within  ourselves, 
is,  in  so  far  as  we  act,  the  very  essence  or  nature  of 
man,  conceived  as  determined  to  those  actions  which 
are  adequately  conceived  by  the  essence  of  man  alone 
(by  Def.  2,  Part  III.).  . If  therefore  this  desire  could 
be  excessive,  then  might  human  nature,  considered 
in  itself  alone,  exceed  itself,  ix.  it  might  accomplish 
more  than  its  own  power  of  performance,  which  is  a 
manifest  contradiction.  Consequently  desire  arising 
from  reason  cannot  be  excessive.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  LXII. — In  so  far  as  the  soul  conceives 
things  according  to  the  dictates  of  reason 
it  is  equally  affected  whether  the  idea  be 
of  a thing  x^ast,  x)i’esent,  or  future. 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOTs-S.  277 


Demohstr. — AVhatever  the  soul  conceives  under 
the  guidance  of  reason,  it  always  conceives  under  the 
same  species  of  eternity  or  necessity  (by  Coroil,  2 to 
Prop.  44,  Part  II.),  and  is  affected  with  the  same  cer- 
tainty Prop.  43  and  its  SclioL,  Part  II.).  Where- 
fore, whether  the  idea  be  of  a thing  past,  present,  or 
future,  the  soul  will  conceive  it  by  the  same  necessity 
and  be  affected  by  it  with  the  same  certainty  ; and 
the  idea,  whether  it  be  of  a thing  past,  present,  or  to 
come,  will  nevertheless  be  equally  true  (by  Projo.  41, 

. Part  II.) ; that  is  to  say  (by  Del  4,  Part  II.),  it  will 
always  have  the  properties  of  an  adequate  idea.  And 
thus,  in  so  far  as  the  soul  conceives  things  according 
to  the  dictates  of  reason,  it  is  affected  in  the  same 
way,  whether  the  idea  be  of  a thing  past,  present,  or 
future.  Q.  E.  D. 

ScHOL. — If  we  could  have  an  adequate  cognition  of 
the  duration  of  things,  and  by  our  reason  determine 
the  time  of  their  existence,  we  should  be  affected  in 
the  same  way  by  things  contemplated  as  present,  or 
as  to  come ; and  the  good  which  the  soul  conceived 
as  a thing  in  the  future  it  would  then  desire  as  if  it 
were  present,  and  so  would  necessarily  neglect  a lesser 
present  good  for  a greater  future  good,  and  would 
have  less  desire  for  that  which  is  a i^resent  good,  but 
which  might  be  the^  cause  of  a future  evil,  as  I shall 
soon  demonstrate.  But  we  can  have  only  a very  in- 
adequate knowledge  of  the  duration  of  things  (by 
Prop.  31,  Part  II.),  for  we  determine  the  times  of 
their  existence  by  our  imagination  alone  (by  Schol.  to 
Prop.  44,  Part  II.),  which  is  not  equally  affected  by 
the  image  of  a thing  present  and  that  of  a thing  to 
come.  Whence  it  happens  that  the  actual  knowledge 
we  have  of  good  and  evil  is  abstract  or  general  only ; 
and  the  judgments  we  form  of  the  order  of  things  and 


278 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


the  connection  of  causes,  with  a view  to  determine 
what  is  good  or  evil  for  us  at  present,  are  rather  im- 
aginary than  real.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  if 
the  desire  that  arises  from  the  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  in  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  future,  should  be  so 
easily  restrained  by  the  desire  of  things  that  are 
agreeable  at  the  present  time.  On  this  ^Doint,  mde 
Prop.  18. 

PEOP.  LXIII. — He  who  is  led  by  fear  to  do 
good  that  he  may  escape  evil,  is  not  guided 
by  reason. 

Demonste. — All  the  passions  referred  to  the  soul 
in  so  far  as  it  acts,  that  is  (by  Prop.  3,  Part  HI.),  all 
the  passions  referred  to  reason,  are  nothing  else  than 
affections  of  joy  and  desire  (by  Prop.  59,  Part  III.). 
Consequently  (by  13  Def.  Pass.),  he  who  is  moved  by 
fear  and  does  good  from  apprehension  of  evil,  is  not 
guided  by  reason.  Q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL.  1. — The  superstitious  who  are  more  ready 
to  denounce  vices  than  to  teach  virtues,  who  do  not 
guide  mankind  by  reason  but  attempt  to  drive  them 
by  tear,  and  who  would  rather  have  them  shun  evil 
than  love  virtue,  intend  only  to  make  others  as  mis- 
erable as  themselves  ; and  therefore  it  is  not  surpris- 
ing that  so  many  of  them  are  regarded  by  their 
fellow-men  as  hateful  and  troublesome. 

CoEOLL. — The  desire  that  arises  from  reason  leads 
us  directly  to  follow  the  good,  and  indirectly  to  shun 
the  evil. 

Demonste. — For  the  desire  that  proceeds  from  rea- 
son can  arise  only  from  an  affection  of  joy  which  has 
not  the  character  of  a passion  (by  Prop.  59,  Part  III.), 
that  is,  from  a joy  that  is  not  excessive  (by  Prop. 


PAHT  IV. — SLAVEEY — FOECE  OF  THE  PASSIOI^^S.  279 


61) ; and  it  cannot  proceed  from  an  affection  of  sor- 
row. Hence  it  follows  that  this  desire  (by  Prop.  8) 
arises  from  a knowledge  of  good,  not  of  evil.  Guided 
by  reason,  therefore,  we  directly  desire  the  good,  and 
in  doing  so  we  shun  the  evil.  Q.  e.  d. 

. SciiOL.  2. — This  Corollary  is  illustrated  by  the  ex- 
ample of  a sick  and  a well  man.  The  sick  man,  for 
fear  of  dying,  takes  medicines  which  he  dislikes  ; but 
the  well  man  takes  food  with  pleasure,  and  thus  en- 
joj^s  life  more  than  if  he  dreaded  death  and  sought 
directly  to  escape  it.  So  also  the  judge  who,  not 
from  hate,  anger,  etc.,  but  from  regard  to  the  public 
safety  alone,  condemns  a criminal  to  death,  is  guided 
simply  by  reason. 

PHOP.  LXIV. — Our  knowledge  of  evil  is  in- 
adequate knowledge. 

Demoxste. — The  knowledge  of  evil,  in  so  far  as 
we  are  conscious  of  it  (by  Prop.  8),  is  sorrow  itself.^.- 
But  sorrow  is  the  transition  from  a greater  to  a less 
perfection  (by  3 Def.  Pass.),  which  cannot  therefore 
be  understood  by  the  essence  of  man  considered  in 
itself  (by  Props.  6 and  7,  Part  HI.).  Consequently 
(by  Def.  2,  Part  III.)  sorrow  is  a passion  which  (by 
Prop.  3,  Part  III.)  is  dependent  upon  inadequate 
ideas  ; and  therefore  (by  Prop.  29,  Part  II.)  the  know- 
ledge we  have  of  sorrow,  that  is,  the  knowledge  of 
evil,  is  inadequate  knowledge,  q.  e.  d. 

CoEOLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  if  the  soul  had 
none  but  adequate  ideas,  it  would  form  no  notion  of 
evil. 

PKOP.  LXV. — Of  two  goods  reason  leads  ns  to 
desire  or  follow  the  greatest,  and  of  two 
evils,  the  least. 


280 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


Demokstk. — A good  wliidi  would  prevent  onr  en- 
joying a greater  good  would  really  be  an  evil.  For 
good  and  evil  (as  we  liave  sliown  in  tlie  Preface  to 
this  Part)  are  terms  applied  to  things  as  compared 
with  one  another  ; and  (for  the  same  reason,  i.e.  by 
comparison)  a minor  evil  is  really  a good.  Where- 
fore (by  the  Coroll,  to  preceding  Prop.),  of  two 
goods  reason  leads  us  to  desire  or  follow  the  greatest, 
and  of  two  evils,  the  least.  Q.  e.  d. 

CoKOLL. — Guided  by  reason  we  choose  a less  evil 
for  the  sake  of  a greater  good,  and  we  neglect  a mi- 
nor good  which  might  become  the  cause  of  a greater 
evil.  For  the  evil  which  is  here  called  less  is  really 
a good,  and,  on  the  contrary,  the  good  that  is  called 
less  is  really  an  evil.  Wherefore  (by  the  Coroll,  to 
preceding  Prop.)  we  desire  the  one  and  neglect  the 
other.  Q.  E.  D. 

PROP.  LX VI. — Led  by  reason  we  desire  a 
greater  future  good  rather  than  a lesser 
present  good,  and  a lesser  present  evil 
rather  than  a future  greater  evil.* 

Demoa^ste.  — If  the  soul  could  have  adequate 
knowledge  of  a future  thing,  it  would  be  affected  by 

* In  the  original  there  is  an  apparent  ambiguity  in  the  second  part 
of  this  Proposition.  The  edition  of  1677  reads  : et  malum  praesens 
minus,  quod  causa  est  futura  alicujus  mali,  ex  rationi  ductu  appete- 
mus.  In  a note  to  his  French  translation  Saisset  says,  alicvjus  mali 
(evil)  makes  the  Proposition  unintelligihle,  and  he  cites  the  edition  of 
Gfroerer  (1830)  as  reading  alicujus  boni  (good),  which  reading  he 
adopts. 

Willis,  in  his  English  translation  (1870)  I find  drops  “ quod  causa 
est,''''  substituting  for  it  “ rather  thanj"*  thus  obviating  any  necessity  of 
reading  honi  for  mali.  This  change,  though  a bold  one,  makes  the 
latter  part  of  the  Proposition  consonant  with  its  first  part,  and  is  also 
supported  by  the  Demonstration,  which  refers  to  a future  eril  as  well 


PAET  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  281 


it  in  the  same  way  as  it  is  affected  by  a present  thing 
(by  Prop.  62).  Wherefore,  as  regards  reason  itself, — 
and  in  this  Proposition  we  are  supposed  to  have  re- 
gard to  reason  alone, — it  is  the  same  thing  whether  it 
be  a greater  present  or  future  good  or  evil  that  is 
supposed.  And  hence  (by  Prop.  65)  we  desire  a 
greater  future  good  before  a lesser  present  one. 

Q.  E.  D. 

Coroll. — Reason  leads  ns  to  desire  a minor  present 
evil  which  will  be  the  cause  of  a greater  future  good, 
and  to  neglect  a minor  present  good  which  will  be  the 
cause  of  a greater  future  evil.  This  Coroll,  has  the 
same  relation  to  Prop.  65  as  the  Coroll,  to  that  same 
Prop,  itself  has. 

SciiOL. — If  therefore  what  has  just  been  said  is 
compared  with  what  has  been  said  on  the  force  of  the 
passions  in  this  Part  as  far  as  Proposition  18,  it  will 
be  readily  seen  what  a difference  there  is  between  the 
man  wlio  is  led  by  mere  passion  or  opinion,  and  the, 
man  who  is  led  by  reason.  For  the  former,  willingly 
or  not,  acts  in  real  ignorance  of  what  he  does  ; the 
latter  obeys  no  one  but  himself,  and  does  that  only 
which  he  knows  to  be  best  in  life,  and  which  he  con- 
sequently most  truly  desires.  Therefore  do  I call  the 
former  Slave  and  the  latter  Free  ; — and  here  I shall 
proceed  to  make  a few  remarks  on  the  character  and 
mode  of  life  of  each  of  these  classes  of  men. 

PEOP.  LXyil. — The  free  man  thinks  of  no- 

as  to  a future  good,  whereas  the  alteration  of  Gfroerer  (which  I have 
not  seen)  effaces  from  the  Proposition  any  reference  to  a future  evil ; 
and,  besides,  if  adopted,  the  first  part  of  the  succeeding  Corollary  be- 
comes a mere  repetition  of  the  second  part  of  the  Proposition.  For 
these  reasons  I have  preferred  to  follow  AVillis  rather  than  Gfroerer  and 
Saisset. — Tr. 


282 


SPmOZA’s  ETHICS. 


tiling  less  than  of  death ; and  his  wisdom 
is  meditation  of  life,  not  of  death. 

Demohstk. — The  free  man,  that  is,  he  who  lives  ac- 
cording to  the  dictates  of  reason  alone,  is  not  led  or 
influenced  by  fear  of  death  (by  Prop.  63),  but  desires 
good  directly  (by  Coroll,  to  same  Prop.)  ; in  other 
words  (by  Prop.  24),  he  desires  to  live  and  act — to  con- 
tinue in  his  state  of  being — with  the  fundamental 
view  of  seeking  that  which  is  useful  to  himself  ; con- 
sequently he  thinks  of  nothing  less  than  of  death  ; 
and  his  wisdom  is  meditation  of  life,  not  of  death. 
Q.  E.  H. 

PKOP.  LXYIII. — If  men  were  born  free,  they 
would  form  no  conception  of  good  and  evil 
so  long  as  they  continued  free. 

Dehohstr. — I have  called  him  free  who  is  guided 
by  reason  alone.  He,  therefore,  who  was  born  free 
and  remained  so,  would  have  no  other  than  adequate 
ideas,  and  so  would  have  no  conception  of  evil  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  64),  and,  consequently  (good  and  evil 
being  correlatives),  no  conception  of  good.  Q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL. — That  the  hypothesis  upon  which  this 
Proposition  rests  is  not  false,  and  can  only  be  con- 
ceived to  be  so  when  the  nature  of  man,  or  rather  the 
nature  of  God,  is  alone  considered,  not  as  God  is  infi- 
nite, but  only  in  so  far  as  cause  why  man  exists, 
appears  by  Proposition  4 of  this  Part.  And  this, 
among  other  things  already  demonstrated,  seems  to 
have  been  signified  by  Moses  in  the  history  of  the 
first  man.  For  therein  no  other  power  of  God  is  con- 
ceived than  that  by  which  man  was  created,  namely, 
the  power  whereby  God  only  provided  for  that  which 


PAET  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  283 


should  be  of  use  to  man  ; and  it  is  in  this  sense  that 
he  narrates  that  God  forbade  the  free  man  to  eat  of 
the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
and  declared  to  him  that  so  soon  as  he  should  eat 
thereof  he  would  forthwith  rather  fear  to  die  than  de- 
sire to  live.  Further,  when  the  man  had  found  the 
wife  whose  nature  agreed  so  entirely  with  his  own, 
he  knew  that  there  could  not  be  anything  in  Nature 
more  useful  to  him  than  she  ; but  when  afterwards  he 
believed  the  lower  animals  to  be  like  himself,  he  began 
forthwith  to  imitate  their  passions  {mde  Prop.  27, 
Part  III.)  and  so  lost  his  freedom.  This,  however, 
the  Patriarchs  subsequently  recovered,  led  by  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  that  is,  by  the  idea  of  God,  which 
alone  is  able  to  make  man  free,  and  to  lead  him  to 
desire  for  others  the  good  he  desires  for  himself,  as  we 
have  (by  Prop.  37)  demonstrated. 

PEOP.  LXIX. — The  virtue  of  the  free  man  is 
equally  as  great  in  discerning  and  avoiding 
as  in  overcoming  danger. 

Demonstr. — An  affection  or  passion  can  neither  be 
restrained  nor  suppressed  except  by  the  coercion  of  a 
contrary  and  stronger  affection  (by  Prop.  7)."^  But 
blind  audacity  and  fear  are  both  passions  which  can 
be  conceived  as  equally  great  (by  Props.  5 and  3). 
Therefore  is  equal  power  of  soul  or  fortitude  {vide 
Bef.  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  59,  Part  III.)  required  to 
restrain  boldness  as  to  overcome  fear  ; that  is  to 
say  (by  40  and  41  Def.  of  Pass.),  the  man  who  is  free 
avoids  danger  by  a like  power  of  soul  as  that  whereby 
he  overcomes  them.  q.  e.  d. 

* The  original  edition  of  1677  cites  Prop.  9,  but  Prop.  7 is  clearly 
intended.  Bruder,  in  the  edition,  Lipsise,  1843,  makes  the  correction. 


284 


SPINOZA'S  ETHICS. 


CoKOLL. — The  free  man  therefore  shows  as  much 
courage  {animositas)  in  fleeing  at  a proper  time  as  he 
does  when  he  engages  in  conflict ; in  other  words,  the 
free  man  elects  to  retreat  or  to  contend  with  equal 
courage  or  presence  of  mind. 

SciiOL. — I have  explained  in  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  59, 
Part  III.,  what  courage  is,  or  what  I understand  it 
to  be.  By  danger  I understand  whatever  may  be  the 
cause  of  some  evil,  such  as  sorrow,  hate,  discord,  etc. 

PROP.  LXX. — The  free  man  who  lives  among 
ignorant  peo]3le,  declines  as  far  as  possible 
to  receive  favors  from  them. 

Demonstk. — Every  one  judges  of  what  is  good  ac- 
cording to  his  own  disposition  or  inclination  (by  Schol. 
to  Prop.  39,  Part  III.).  The  ignorant  person  who  has 
conferred  a favor  estimates  it  therefore  according  to 
his  own  way  of  thinking,  and  if  he  sees  that  it  is  but 
lightly  esteemed  by  him  on  whom  it  is  conferred,  he 
is  grieved  (by  Prop.  42,  Part  III.).  The  free  man, 
however,  desires  to  bind  others  to  him  by  ties  of 
friendship  (by  Prop.  37) ; he  does  not  seek  to  i^ay 
them  back  with  favors  that  will  be  an  equivalent  for 
what  he  has  himself  received  from  them,  but  he  en- 
deavors to  be  guided  himself,  and  to  have  others 
guided  by  the  free  judgment  of  reason,  and  only  strives 
to  do  those  things  he  knows  to  be  truly  good.  There- 
fore the  free  man,  that  he  may  not  be  hated  by  the 
ignorant,  and  not  countenance  their  blind  desires,  but 
live  in  compliance  with  reason  alone,  endeavors  as  far 
as  possible  to  decline  their  favors.  Q.  e.  d. 

Schol. — I say  as  far  as  possible.  For  though  men 
are  ignorant,  yet  still  are  they  men,  who  in  the  exi- 
gencies of  life  are  capable  of  rendering  human  aid — 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOiS^S.  285 


than  which  there  is  none  better.  Hence  it  often  hap- 
pens that  it  is  necessary  to  accept  their  favors,  and, 
consequently^  to  receive  them  thankfully  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  they  are  protfered.  Add  to  this,  that 
even  in  declining  a protfered  favor  circumspection  is 
requisite,  lest  we  seem  to  despise  him  who  offers  it, 
or  from  stinginess  appear  fearful  that  some  recom- 
pense will  be  expected,  and  so,  i n endeavoring  to 
avoid  ill  feeling,  incur  the  risk  of  giving  offence. 
Wherefore  in  declining  favors  we  are  to  have  regard 
to  what  is  useful  and  becoming. 

PEOP.  LXXI. — Pree  men  alone  are  truly  grate- 
ful toward  one  another. 

Hemoxstr. — Free  men  alone  are  most  useful  to 
each  other,  are  most  united  together  by  the  necessi- 
ties of  true  friendship  (by  Prop.  35  and  its  Coroll.  1.), 
and  studiously  endeavor  with  like-  love  to  do  each 
other  service  (by  Prop.  37) ; therefore  (34  Hef.  Pass.) 
free  men  alone  are  truly  grateful  to  each  other. 

Q.  E.  D. 

ScHOL. — The  gratitude  which  men  who  are  led  hy 
blind  desire  feel  toward  one  another,  is  mostly  of  the 
nature  of  traffic  or  a cunning  game  {aucupium)^ 
rather  than  true  gratitude.  Ingratitude,  indeed,  is 
not  a passion,  yet  is  it  a baseness  which  very  often 
indicates  that  those  who  show  it  are  possessed  by 
such  passions  as  hate,  anger,  pride,  avarice,  etc.  He 
who  through  foolishness  or  stupidity  knows  not 
how  or  neglects  to  give  thanks  for  benefits  received, 
is  not  necessarily  ungrateful ; much  less  so  is  he  who 
is  not  moved  by  the  gifts  of  a wanton  to  gratify  her 
lascivious  desires,  nor  of  a thief  to  conceal  his  robbery, 
or  anything  else  of  a similar  character.  He,  on  the 


286 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 

contrary,  sLows  himself  to  be  a man  of  an  upright 
and  steadfast  soul  whom  no  bribes  or  allurements  can 
corrupt  to  his  own  degradation  or  the  public  detri- 
ment. 

PEOP.  LXXII. — The  free  man  never  acts  de- 
ceitfully or  with  evil  design,  but  always 
with  good  faith. 

Demonste. — If  the  free  man  acted  deceitfully 
or  with  evil  design,  he  would,  inasmuch  as  he  is 
free,  act  by  the  dictates  of  reason  (for  we  have  only 
called  him  free  in  so  far  as  he  does  so  act) ; so  that 
for  him  to  act  with  deceit  or  evil  design  would  be  a 
virtue  (by  Prop.  24),  and  consequently  (by  same 
Prop.)  every  one,  in  order  to  conserve  his  state  of  be- 
ing, would  do  wisely  to  act  in  that  manner ; that  is 
(obviously),  it  would  be  good  for  men  to  agree  in 
words  only  and  oppose  each  other  in  acts, — which  (by 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  31)  is  absurd.  Therefore  the  free 
man  never  acts  deceitfully,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL. — If  I am  now  asked  : What  if  a man  could 
by  perfidy  alone  free  himself  from  danger  of  present 
death,  would  not  reason  persuade  him  by  all  means 
to  be  perfidious  and  so  preserve  his  life  ? I answer 
thus  : If  reason  did  so  persuade  him,  then  the  advice 
Avould  be  for  all  mankind ; and  consequently  reason 
would  counsel  all  men  not  to  unite  peacefully  and 
have  rights  in  common,  unless  for  deceitful  and  evil 
purposes  ; that  is  to  say,  that  they  should  not  really 
have  rights  in  common  and  live  peacefully  together, — 
which  is  absurd. 

PEOP.  LXXIII. — The  man  whom  reason  guides 
is  freer  when  he  lives  in  a community  un- 


PAET  IV. — SLAYEKY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  287 


der  tlie  bond  of  common  laws,  than  when 
he  lives  in  solitude  Avhere  he  obeys  himself 
alone. 

Demonste. — The  man  whom  reason  guides  is  not 
moved  to  obedience  by  fear  (by  Prop.  63) ; but  as  he 
seeks  to  preserve  his  being  in  conformity  with  the 
dictates  of  reason,  that  is  (by  Schol.  to  Prop.  66),  as 
he  endeavors  to  live  free,  he  desires  to  observe  and 
maintain  the  common  rules  of  life  and  utility  (by 
Prop.  37),  and  consequently  (as  we  have  shown  in 
Schol.  2 to  Prop.  37)  to  live  obedient  to  the  common 
laws  and  decrees  of  the  State.  Therefore  the  man 
who  is  led  by  reason  and  desires  to  live  in  the  high- 
est freedom,  obeys  the  common  laws  of  his  country. 
Q.  E.  n. 

Schol. — This  and  other  like  doctrines  which  we 
have  presented  of  the  true  freedom  of  man^  are  to  be 
referred  to  fortitude,  that  is  (by  the  Schol.  to  Prop. 
59,  Part  111.),  to  courage  and  generosity.  I do  not 
think  it  necessary  to  mention  and  describe  separately 
all  the  forms  and  properties  of  fortitude,  and  still  less 
to  insist  that  the  courageous  and  generous  man  hates 
no  one,  neither  is  he  angry,  envious,  indignant,  nor 
contemptuous,  and  is  not  proud  or  haughty.  For 
this,  as  well  as  all  else  that  concerns  or  pertains  to 
true  life  and  religion^  can  readily  be  deduced  from 
what  is  said  in  Props.  37  and  46, — namely,  that  hate 
is  to  be  vanquished  by  its  opposite — love  ; and  that 
every  man  who  is  guided  by  reason,  desires  that  the 
good  he  wishes  for  himself  should  be  enjoyed  by 
others  also.  To  which  must  be  added  what  has  been 
said  in  the  Scholium  to  Proposition  50,  and  in  other 
places  besides  : that  the  strong,  courageous,  generous 
man  remembers,  above  all,  that  whatsoever  happens. 


288 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


results  from  tlie  necessity  of  tlie  Divine  Xature  ; and 
consequently  that  whatsoever  he  judges  to  be  trouble- 
some and  evil,  whatever  appears  to  him  to  be  impious, 
horrible,  unjust,  and  base,  arises  from  this  : — namely, 
from  disordered,  imperfect,  and  confused  conceptions 
of  things  ; and  for  this  reason  especially  does  he 
strive  to  understand  things  as  they  really  are  in 
themselves,  and  to  remove  all  obstacles  to  a true  con- 
ception and  knowledge  of  them, — such  as  hate,  anger, 
envy,  derision,  pride,  and  all  other  like  evil  passions 
which  we  have  treated  of  in  the  preceding  pages, — in 
order,  as  I have  said,  that  lie  may  endeavor  as  far  as 
possible  to  do  well  and  live  happily.  How  far  human 
virtue  is  capable  of  accomplishing  such  results  will  be 
shown  in  the  next  Part. 


PART  IV. — SLAVEPY — FOKCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  289 


APPENDIX. 


The  doctrines  tliat  I have  taught  in  this  Part  in  re- 
gard to  the  right  rule  or  conduct  of  life,  are  not  so  ai  - 
ranged  that  they  can  be  taken  in  at  a glance,  but  are 
demonstrated  in  a soniewliat  scattered  or  irregular 
order,  according  as  each  Proposition  seemed  to  How 
out  of  the  one  that  preceded  it.  I propose,  therefore, 
to  collect  them  together  here  and  rearrange  the  whole 
under  separate  Heads. 

Head  I. — All  onr  efforts  or  desiies  follow  from  the 
necessity  of  onr  nature  in  such  a way  that  the}^  can 
either  be  understood  by  this  alone  as  their  proximate 
cause,  or  in  so  far  as  we  are  a part  of  natni'e,  Avhich 
])art  cannot  by  itself  and  indei)endently  of  other  in- 
dividual parts  be  adequately  conceived. 

Head  II. — The  desires  which  follow  from  our  na- 
ture in  such  a way  that  they  can  be  understood  by 
that  alone,  are  those  which  are  referred  to  the  sonl. 
in  so  far  as  it  is  conceived  as  constituted  by  adequate 
ideas.  The  other  desires,  however,  are  not  referred 
to  the  soul  save  in  so  far  as  it  conceives  things  inade- 
(piately,  and  the  force  and  increment  of  these  cannot 
l)e  dehned  or  measured  by  our  human  power,  but  by 
the  power  of  external  things.  On  this  account  the 
former  are  properly  called  actions^  and  the  latter  are 
called  and  whilst  the  former  always  indi- 

<*ate  our  power,  the  latter,  on  the  contrary,  declare 
our  impotency  and  imperfect  knowledge. 

Head  III. — Our  actions,  that  is  to  say,  those  de- 
19 


290 


spixoza’s  ethics 


sires  wlikli  are  defined  by  the  power  or  reason  of 
man,  are  always  good  ; the  others  may  be  either  good 
or  bad. 

Head  TV. — It  is  therefoi-e  of  the  highest  utility,  in 
life  that  we  perfect  onr  understanding  or  reason  as 
much  as  possible  ; and  in  this  alone  consists  the  sn 
preme  felicity  or  blessedness  of  man  ; for  blessedness 
is  nothing  else  than  that  tranquillity  of  soul  Avhicli 
arises  from  the  intuitive  knowledge  of  God.  iS^ow,  to 
perfect  onr  understanding  is  nothing  else  than  to  ap- 
prehend God,  and  the  attributes  and  acts  of  God 
which  follow  from  the  necessity  of  the  Divine  ISTature. 
Wherefore  the  highest  end  and  aim  of  the  man  whom 
reason  guides,  his  supreme  desire,  that  by  which  he 
studies  to  regulate  all  other  desires,  is  the  desire  he 
feels  to  adequately  conceive  and  know  himself  and 
all  things  else  that  can  fall  under  his  intelligence. 

Head  Y. — There  is,  therefore,  no  rational  life  with- 
out intelligence,  and  things  are  only  r/ood  in  so  far  as 
they  aid  man  to  enjoy  that  Soul-Life  {Mentis  mta) 
which  is  defined  as  understanding.  Those  things,  on 
the  contrary,  which  prevent  man  from  perfecting  his 
understanding  and  enjoying  this  rational  life,  and 
those  only,  do  I call  had. 

Head  YI. — But  as  all  the  things  of  Avhich  man  is 
himself  the  efficient  cause  are  necessarily  good,  it  fol- 
lows that  nothing  of  evil  can  happen  to  him  save 
from  external  causes,  that  is,  in  so  far  as  he  is  a t)art 
of  entire  nature,  Avhose  laws  human  nature  must 
obey,  and  to  whose  plan  or  order  it  must  accommo- 
date itself  in  almost  an  infinity  of  ways. 

. Head  Yll. — It  is  impossible  that  man  should  not 
be  a part  of  nature  and  follow  its  common  order  ; but 
if  he  lives  among  such  individuals  as  agree  with  his 
human  nature,  his  power  of  action  is  thereby  favored 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOI^S.  291 


and  increased ; and,  on  the  contrary,  if  he  lives 
among  such  as  in  nowise  agree  with  his  nature,  he 
will  not  be  able  without  great  change  in  himself  to 
accommodate  himself  to  them. 

Head  YIII. — Whatever  there  is  in  the  nature  of 
things  which  we  judge  to  be  bad,  or  whicli  can  pre- 
vent ns  from  existing  and  enjoying  a rational  life,  it 
is  allowable  for  us  to  remove  in  the  way  that  seems 
to  ns  the  safest  and  surest ; and,  on  the  contrary, 
whatever  there  is  which  we  judge  to  be  good  or  use- 
ful to  the  preservation  of  our  being  and  our  enjoy- 
ment of  a rational  life,  we  have  the  right  to  take 
and  to  use  in  any  way  for  those  ends.  By  the  su- 
preme law  of  nature  {i.e.  natural  right)  every  one  is 
allowed  to  do  absolutely  whatsoever  he  judges  will 
be  of  use  to  himself. 

Head  IX. — Xothing  can  agree  more  with  the  na- 
ture of  any  individual  thing  than  other  individuals 
of  the  same  species ; therefore  (by  Head  7)  nothing 
can  be  more  useful  to  man  for  the  preservation  of  his 
own  being  and  his  enjoyment  of  a rational  life  than 
the  man  whose  life  is  guided  by  reason.  Further,  as 
among  individual  things  we  know^  of  none  that  is 
more  excellent  or  preferable  to  a reasonable  man,  so, 
in  nothing  can  man  better  show  how  much  genius  and 
ability  are  worth,  than  in  educating  men  in  such  a 
way  that  they  will,  in  particular,  come  at  length  to 
live  under  the  dominion  of  reason. 

Head  X. — In  so  far  as  men  are  actuated  by  the 
passions  of  envy  or  hate  for  one  another,  in  so  far  ar(i 
they  contrary  or  opposed  to  one  another  ; and  on 
that  account  they  are  then  more  to  be  feared  as  they 
have  more  power  than  the  other  individuals  of 
nature. 

Head  XI. — The  evil  inclinations  and  passions  of 


292 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


men  are  not  vanquished  by  force,  but  by  love  and 
generosity. 

Head  XII. — It  is  especially  nsefnl  to  men  to  asso- 
ciate together  in  customary  ways,  and  to  bind  them- 
selves to  one  another  by  mutual  agreements,  whereby 
many  are  as  it  were  made  one ; and  absolutely  to  do 
whatever  may  be  serviceable  in  promoting  and  main- 
taining friendly  relations. 

Head  XIII. — But  to  do  this  skill  and  vigilance  are 
requisite.  For  men  are  of  different  dispositions 
(those  who  live  by  the  precepts  of  reason  being 
few  in  number),  yet,  nevertheless,  they  are  mostly 
envious  and  more  inclined  to  vengeance  than  to 
mercy.  A singular  strength  of  mind  is  therefore  re- 
quisite to  enable  a man  to  live  among  others  consist- 
ently with  his  own  ideas  and  convictions,  to  be  master 
of  himself,  and  not  fall  into  the  habits  or  exhibit  the 
same  passions  as  those  with  whom  he  associates.  On 
the  other  hand,  they  who  are  always  carping  at  their 
fellow-men,  reproaching  them  for  their  vices  rather 
than  teaching  virtue,  and  who  would  seek  to  crush 
out  the  bad,  but  know  not  how  to  encourage  and 
strengthen  the  good  in  feeble  souls,  are  only  trouble- 
some to  themselves  as  well  as  to  others.  AVhence 
some,  through  an  excessively  impatient  spirit  and 
false  views  of  religion,  have  preferred  to  live  among 
brutes  rather  than  among  men  ; even  as  boys  and 
young  men  unable  to  bear  with  patience  the  admoni- 
tion of  parents  enlist  as  soldiers,  preferring  the  hard- 
ships of  war  and  obedience  to  despotic  military  com- 
mands to  the  comforts  of  home  if  subject  to  parental 
reproof,  enduring  patiently  any  burdens  imposed 
upon  them  if  only  they  can  be  revenged  on  their  pa- 
rents. 

Head  XIV. — Although  men,  therefore,  mostly  try 


PART  IV. — SLAVERY— FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOI^S.  293 


to  arrange  things  to  their  own  liking,  nevertheless 
many  more  advantages  than  evils  accrue  from  associa- 
tion. Wherefore  it  is  best  to  bear  injuries  and  incon- 
veniences with  patience  and  equanimity,  and  stu- 
diously endeavor  to  do  whatever  will  serve  to  pro- 
mote concord  and  friendly  relations  among  men. 

Head  XV. — The  acts  that  beget  concord  among 
men  are  such  as  are  referred  to  justice,  equity,  and 
honorable  conduct.  For  men,  besides  their  dislike  of 
injustice,  inequality,  and  unfairness,  can  with  diffi- 
culty tolerate  those  who  act  basely,  or  who  contemn 
and  violate  the  accepted  morals  of  society.  To  pro- 
mote love,  however,  all  that  relates  to  religion  and 
piety  is  especially  and  necessarily  to  be  regarded. 
On  this  point,  mde  Scholia  1 and  2 to  Prop.  37,  the 
Schol.  to  Prop.  46,  and  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  73. 

Head  XVI. — Concord  among  men  is  moreover 
quite  frequently  produced  by  fear  ; but  then  it  is 
without  confidence.  Add  to  this,  that  fear  arises 
from  impotence  of  soul  and  is  therefore  not  connected 
with  the  use  of  reason  ; and  the  same  may  be  said  of 
commiseration  or  pity,  though  it  may  seem  to  be  a 
sort  of  piety. 

Head  XVII. — Men  are,  besides,  favorably  in- 
fluenced by  liberality,  especially  those  who  have  not 
the  means  to  procure  the  necessaries  of  life.  But  to 
render  assistance  to  every  needy  person  would  far 
surpass  the  ability  and  might  not  be  for  the  interest 
of  any  private  individual ; for,  indeed,  the  wealth  of 
no  one  individual  would  be  sufficiently  abundant  to 
relieve  the  wants  of  all  the  necessitous.  Besides,  the 
circle  within  which  the  power  of  one  man  can  act  is 
too  limited  for  him  to  exercise  his  friendship  for  all. 
Wherefore  the  care  of  the  poor,  afflicted,  and  help- 
less, is  mainly  incumbent  upon  the  community 


294 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


at  large,  and  lias  regard  only  to  tlie  general  wel- 
fare. 

Head  XYIII. — In  accepting  favors,  and  in  sli owing 
gratitude,  our  care  must  be  quite  different, — on  whicli 
point  mde  Scliol.  to  Prop.  70  and  Scliol.  to  Prop.  71. 

Head  XIX. — Meretricious  love,  in  other  words, 
mere  sensuality,  in  whatever  form  it  shows  itself,  and 
absolutely  all  love  that  owns  any  other  cause  than 
freedom  of  soul,  is  easily  changed  to  hate,  unless — 
which  is  worse — it  be  a kind  of  delirium,  in  which 
case  it  fosters  discord  rather  than  concord.  Yide 
Coroll,  to  Prop.  31,  Part  III. 

Head  XX. — As  regards  marriage,  it  certainly  ac- 
cords with  reason  if  the  desire  for  sexual  union  re- 
lates not  solely  to  the  body,  but  is  accompanied  also 
by  the  desire  to  have  children  and  to  rear  and  educate 
them  wisely ; and  further,  if  on  the  part  of  both — 
man  and  woman  alike — the  love  is  not  of  the  body 
alone,  but  has  as  its  principal  cause  freedom  of  soul. 

Head  XXI. — Adulation  or  flattery  also  begets 
concord,  but  it  is  through  the  base  offence  of  servility, 
or  perfldy ; for  none  are  more  taken  with  adulation 
than  the  proud  or  vain-glorious,  who  wish  to  be  con- 
sidered flrst  or  above  others,  and  yet  are  not  so. 

Head  XXII. — Abjection  or  self-abasement  has  a 
false  air  of  piety  and  religion  ; and  although  humil- 
ity is  opposed  to  pride  or  haughtiness,  nevertheless 
the  abject  man  is  closely  allied  to  the  proud.  Yide 
Schol.  to  Prop.  57. 

Head  XXIII, — Shame  may  also  conduce  to  con- 
cord, but  only  in  matters  that  cannot  be  concealed. 
And  then,  as  shame  is  a species  of  sorrow,  it  has  no 
relation  to  the  use  of  reason. 

Head  XXIY. — The  other  forms  of  sorrow  with 
which  men  are  affected  are  directly  opposed  to  jus- 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIOXS.  295 

tice,  equity,  honor,  piety,  and  religion  ; and  although 
indignation  has  a semblance  of  justice,  yet  do  the}^ 
live  without  law  who  judge  the  actions  of  others  and 
of  themselves  undertake  to  enforce  what  they  as- 
sume to  be  their  own  or  other  people’s  rights. 

Head  XXV. — Modesty  {modest la) ^ that  is,  the  de- 
sire to  please  or  to  be  agreeable  to  others,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  determined  by  reason,  is  referable  to  duty,  re- 
spectfulness, or  piety  {pietas)^  as  has  been  said  in 
Schol.  1 to  Prop.  37.  But  if  the  desire  to  please 
arises  from  an  atfection,  it  is  then  a species  of  am- 
bition or  selfish  desire,  whereby  men  under  a false 
apiiearance  of  piety  {i.e.  of  duty,  respect,  etc.),  very 
often  excite  discord  and  sedition.  For  he  who  desires 
to  assist  or  advise  others  in  order  that  they  with  him- 
self may  enjoy  true  happiness,  is,  above  all,  studious 
to  conciliate  their  love,  but  never  seeks  to  elicit  their 
admiration  for  himself,  nor  to  have  his  disciples  or 
followers  called  by  his  name,  and  is  jiarticularly  soli- 
citous to  give  no  cause  for  envy  or  ill-will.  In 
public  discussions  he  will  be  careful  not  to  refer  to 
the  vices  of  men,  and  will  speak  siiaringly  and  cau- 
tiously of  their  weakness  or  impotence  ; whilst,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  will  descant  freely  on  their  virtues 
or  flowers,  and  of  the  way  in  which  they  may  be  used 
for  their  self-improvement,  so  that  men,  not  through 
fear  or  aversion,  but  led  solely  by  joyful  emotions, 
may  endeavor  to  live  as  far  as  possible  according  to 
the  precepts  of  reason. 

Head  XXVI. — Except  men,  we  know  of  no  indi- 
viduals in  nature  with  whom  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
share  our  mental  enjoyments,  or  with  whom  we  can 
be  united  by  the  ties  of  fellowship  or  the  bonds  of 
friendship  or  custom  ; so  that,  except  men,  we  are 
not  required  to  preserve  whatever  things  there  are  in 


296 


rpixoza’s  ethics. 


nature  without  regard  to  our  convenience,  but,  ac- 
cording to  our  various  wants,  may  either  pi-esei‘ve, 
destroy,  or  adapt  them  to  our  necessities  in  whatso- 
(‘ver  way  we  judge  best. 

Head  XXVII. — The  use  for  wliicli  we  take  things 
external  to  ourselves,  to  say  nothing  of  the  expe- 
rience and  knowledge  we  acquire  of  them  from  ob- 
servation of  their  nature  and  the  changes  of  form 
they  are  made  to  undergo,  has  reference  principally 
to  the  preservation  of  our  bodies  ; and  for  this  rea- 
son the  things  that  are  most  useful  to  us  are  those 
which  sustain  and  nourish  the  body  so  that  all  its 
parts  are  in  proper  condition  to  discharge  their  func- 
tions. For  the  more  apt  the  body  is  to  be  affected 
in  many  Avays,  and  in  turn  to  affect  external  bodies 
in  many  Avays,  the  better  fitted  is  the  soul  for  thought 
{mde  Props.  38  and  39).  But  indeed  there  seem  to  be 
very  feAV  in  this  more  apt  or  perfect  condition  in  nature. 
Wherefore  a great  variety  of  aliments  of  different 
natures  are  required  for  the  necessary  nourishment 
of  the  body  ; for  the  human  body  is  composed  of 
many  parts  of  diverse  natures,  Avhich  require  con- 
tinual supplies  of  various  aliments  in  order  that  the 
body  as  a Avhole,  as  AA'ell  as  all  its  jiarts,  may  be  made 
apt  for  all  that  can  possibly  folloAv  from  its  nature  or 
constitution,  and,  consequently,  that  the  soul  also 
may  be  equally  apt  to  form  a great  number  of  con- 
ceptions. 

Head  XXVIII. — The  ability  of  indiAuduals,  Iioav- 
ever,  AA^ould  scarcely  suffice  to  supply  all  these  needs 
did  not  men  mutually  assist  each  other.  But  money 
has  become  the  compendious  representative  and  pro- 
curer of  almost  everything  in  the  Avorld,  and  the  idea 
of  it  so  completely  engrosses  the  thoughts  of  the 
vulgar  that  they  can  hardly  imagine  any  kind  of 


PAKT  IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  297 


pleasure  or  enjoyment  wit  lion  fc  associating  with  it  the 
idea  of  money  as  its  cause. 

Head  XXIX. — But  this  is  not  a vice  in  those  who 
from  poverty  covet  money  to  procure  the  necessities 
of  life,  but  only  in  those  who  devote  themselves  to 
the  pursuit  of  wealth  for  the  sake  of  making  an  os- 
tentatious show.  The  bodies  of  all  alike  require 
daily  nourishment,  but  the  niggardly  parsimonious 
often  starve  themselves,  for  they  think  that  what 
they  spend  in  maintaining  their  bodies  is  so  much 
wasted  or  lost.  But  they  who  know  the  right  use  of 
money,  and  who  can  moderate  their  wants  according 
to  their  means,  live  content  witli  little. 

Head  XXX. — Since,  then,  those  things  are  good 
that  support  the  body  and  its  parts  in  a state  to  per- 
form their  functions,  and  as  joy  or  pleasure  consists 
in  aiding  and  increasing  the  powers  of  man,  consti- 
tuted as  he  is  of  body  and  soul,  therefore  all  things 
that  give  him  joy  or  pleasure  are  good  (if  not  in 
excess).  But  on  the  other  hand,  as  the  things  of  na- 
ture do  not  act  with  the  end  or  purpose  of  giving  us 
pleasure,  nor  are  their  powers  of  action  regulated  by 
our  utility,  and,  hnally,  as  joy  or  pleasure  is  gene- 
rally referred  to  some  one  particular  part  of  the  body, 
therefore  (unless  reason  and  watchfulness  preside) 
most  of  the  emotions  of  joy  or  pleasure,  and  conse- 
quently the  desires  they  engender,  may  become  ex- 
cessive. Add  to  this,  that  although  we  are  at  first 
agreeably  affected  by  these  emotions,  yet  subse- 
quently they  may  not  always  so  affect  us  or  be  re- 
garded with  equal  pleasure.  Yide  Schol.  to  Prop. 
44,  and  Schol.  to  Prop.  60. 

Head  XXXI. — Superstition,  on  the  contraiy,  would 
persuade  us  that  what  brings  us  sorrow  or  j^ain  is 
good,  and  what  brings  us  joy  or  pleasure  is  evil.  But 


298 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


as  I have  already  said  {^ide  Scliol.  to  Prop.  45),  none 
but  an  envious  being  could  delight  in  our  helpless- 
ness and  suffering.  For  the  greater  the  joy  with 
which  we  are  affected  the  higher  is  the  perfection  to 
which  we  attain,  and  consequently  the  more  do  we 
participate  in  the  Divine  Nature  ; nor  can  joy  ever  be 
evil  so  long  as  it  is  moderated  to  our  use  by  reason, 
lie,  on  the  contrary,  who  is  impelled  by  fear  to  do 
good  that  he  may  escape  evil,  is  not  led  by  reason. 
\dde  Prop.  63. 

Head  XXXII. — But  human  power  is  exceedingly 
limited,  and  is  infinitely  surpassed  by  the  power  of 
external  causes  ; and  hence  it  is  that  we  have  no  ab- 
solute power  of  adapting  to  our  use  things  that  are 
external  to  ourselves.  Nevertheless,  whatever  be- 
falls us  contrary  to  what  reason  pronounces  useful 
to  us,  we  bear  with  equanimity,  if  we  are  but  con- 
scious that  we  have  done  our  duty,  that  our  power 
did  not  extend  so  far  as  to  enable  us  to  escape  what 
has  happened,  and  that  we  are  a part  of  nature  at 
large,  whose  order  we  obey.  And  understanding  this 
much  clearly  and  distinctly,  that  part  of  our  being 
Avhich  is  defined  as  intelligence  or  understanding,  in 
other  words,  our  higher  nature,  fully  acquiesces  and 
endeavors  to  persevere  in  such  acquiescence.  For,  in 
so  far  as  we  understand,  we  desire  that  only  which  is 
necessary,  and  can  but  acquiesce  absolutely  in  that 
which  is  true  ; so  that,  in  so  far  as  we  rightly  under- 
stand, so  far  does  the  effort  of  the  better  and  higher 
part  of  our  nature  accord  with  the  order  of  nature  at 
large. 


EXD  OF  THE  FOUETII  PART. 


v- 


wV' 


FIFTH  PART. 


OE  MAX’S  EEEEDOM,  OE  THE  POWEE 
OE  THE  LXDEESTAXHIXG. 


PREFACE. 


I COME  at  last  to  that  other  part  of  Ethics  which 
relates  to  the  mode  or  course  of  life  that  leads  to  Free- 
dom. In  this  Part,  therefore,  I shall  speak  of  the 
Power  of  the  Understanding,  and  show  what  reason 
of  itself  can  do  in  respect  of  the  passions,  and,  after- 
wards, wherein  freedom  of  the  soul  or  beatitude  con- 
sists. We  shall  then  see  how  much  the  wise  excel  the 
ignorant.  In  what  way,  however,  the  understanding 
or  reason  is  to  be  perfected,  and  how  the  body  is  to  be 
cared  for  so  that  it  may  be  most  capable  of  perform- 
ing its  functions,  does  not  belong  to  my  subject,  the 
former  pertaining  more  properly  to  Logic,  and  the 
latter  to  Medicine.  Here,  therefore,  as  I have  said,  I 
shall  treat  of  the  power  of  the  understanding,  or  of 
reason  alone,  and,  above  all,  shall  show  the  nature 
and  extent  of  the  empire  it  possesses  to  restrain  and 
moderate  the  passions  ; for  that  we  have  no  absolute 


300 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


dominion  over  these  has  been  already  demonstrated. 
The  Stoics,  indeed,  held  that  our  passions  were  en- 
tirely dependent  upon  our  will^  and  that  we  could 
govern  or  control  them  absolutely,  ^ut  experience 
loudly  prmt.rnf^iptpr]  tbmr  priTiripipg,  ■-a4»4--thAy  were 
conWame^JijX^mit  -that  it  required  long^abit  and 
careful  ^tudy  to  restrain  and  moderate  them  ; a truth 
which  (if  I remember~liorrect[Yrtliey~F^Vl^  tn  _il]ng- 
t7-ate~t)yddm  example  of  two  dogs, — one,  a house  or 
\vatch-dog,  and  the  other  a hunting  dog,  which  by 
careful  training  were  at  length  so  changed  in  charac- 
ter that  the  watch-dog  became  a hunter,  whilst,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  hunting  dog,  which  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  chase,  ceased  to  pursue  game.  These 
views  of  the  Stoics .arajiot_a_lit tie  favored  by  Des- 
cartes. For  he  thinks  that  the  mind  or  soul  is-Bspe- 
cially  united  witlL_a  certain  part  of  the  brain  called 
the  pineal  gland,  by  meajis  of  which-iihe..sQHlJ_s  m 
sensible  of  every  motion  that  is  excited  in  the  b^dy 
amTperceives  external  objects  ; ahimiatThe  soul  by 
willing  alone  can  effect  numberless  movements  of 
this  gland.  This  gland,  moreover,  he  thinks,  is  sus- 
pended in  the  middle  of  the  brain  in  such  a way  that 
it  can  be  x)ut  in  motion  by  the  slightest  movements  of 
the  animal  spirits,  and  is  so  hung  or  suspended  that 
it  can  be  moved  in  as  many  different  ways  as  there  are 
different  ways  in  which  the  animal  spirits  impinge 
upon  it,  and  that  as  many  various  impressions  are 
made  upon  it  as  there  are  various  external  objects 
that  propel  the  animal  spirits  towards  it ; whence  it 
results  that  if  this  gland  has  communicated  to  it  by 
the  will  of  the  soul  a motion  similar  to  that  which  it 
had  before  received  when  acted  upon  b}^-  the  animal 
spirits  impelled  towards  it,  then  this  gland  itself  pro- 
pels and  determines  the  animal  spirits  in  the  same 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  U]N^DERSTAXDIXG.  301 


manner  as  they  had  before  been  repelled  when  tliey 
impinged  upon  it  similarly  suspended.  He  tliought, 
besides,  that  every  volition  of  the  soul  is  by  nature 
united  with  a certain  movement  of  this  pineal  gland. 
For  example,  if  any  one  loills  to  look  at  a distant  ob- 
ject, this  icill  would  have  the  effect  to  dilate  the  pupil 
of  his  eye  ; but  if  he  merely  thought  to  dilate  the 
pupil  and  nothing  more,  that  effect  would  not  be  pro- 
duced by  the  volition,  because  nature  has  not  united 
that  motion  of  the  pineal  gland  which  serves  to  im- 
pel the  spirits  towards  the  optic  nerve  for  the  purpose 
of  dilating  or  contracting  the  pupil  of  the  eye  with 
the  will  of  merely  dilating  or  contracting  it  and  no- 
thing more,  but  has  united  it  with  the  will  to  look  at 
objects  distant  or  near.  Finally,  Descartes  is  of  the 
opinion  that  although  each  particular  motion  of  the 
pineal  gland  seems  to  be  connected  by  nature  from 
the  beginning  of  our  lives  with  some  particnlar 
thought,  still  these  motions  may  by  force  of  habit 
be  joined  with  other  thoughts  ; and  this  is  what  he 
(‘itdeavors  to  establish  in  his  treatise  on  the  Passions 
of  the  Soul,  Article  50,  Part  I.  He  concludes  from 
this,  that  there  is  no  soul  so  imbecile  that  it  cannot,  if 
well  directed,  acquire  absolute  control  over  its  j^as- 
sions.  For  the  passions,  according  to  his  definition 
of  them,  are  jperceptions^  sensations^  or  commotions 
of  the  sold,  ichicli  are  specialty  referred  to  it^  and. 
produced^  maintained^  and  strengthened  hy  certain 
movements  of  the  spirits.  {Yicle  Art.  27,  Part  I., 
Passiones  Animte.)  Xow,  since  if  any  one  could 
unite  with  his  volitions  such  or  such  a movement  of 
the  pineal  gland,  and  consequently  of  the  spirits,  and 
if  the  determination  of  our  will  depends  entirely  upon 
our  own  power,  then  our  will  being  surely  and  firmly 
fixed  and  the  desired  actions  of  our  life  and  the  de- 


302 


SPINOZA’ 3 ETHICS. 


rv 


termination  and  movement  of  onr  passions  being 
joined  to  it,  it  would  follow  that  we  could  acquire  an 
absolute  empire  over  our  passions.  Such  (in  so  far  as 
I can  understand  him)  is  the  opinion  of  this  dis- 
tinguished man  ; and  if  it  had  been  less  ingenious, 
less  subtile,  I must  confess  that  I could  scarcely  have 
believed  that  it  emanated  from  him.  I cannot,  in- 
deed, sufficiently  express  my  wonder  that  this  great 
Philosopher,  who  has  so  broadly  and  firmly  laid  down 
r|^dhe  rule  that  nothing  is  to  be  inferred  except  from 
self-evident  truths,  and  nothing  to  be  affirmed  save 
that  which  is  clearly  and  distinctly  understood  or 
perceived,  and  who  has  so  often  reprehended  the  scho- 
lastics for  having  wished  or  attempted  to  explain  ob- 
scure things  by  occult  qualities — that  he,  I say, 
should  assume^aji^jiypothesis  more  occult  than  the 
most  occult  quality.  What,  I ask,  does  he  under- 
stand by  the  union  of  soul  and  body  ? What  clear 
and  distinct  conception  has  he  of  thought  most  closely 
united  with  even  the  smallest  particle  of  any  quanti- 
tative thing  ? I would  wish,  indeed,  that  he  had 
explained  this  union  by  it^-pmximate  cause.  But  he 
had  conceived  the  soul  ps  sp^ distinct  from  the  body 
that  he  could  neitlier  assigii  any  p articular  ca^e  for 
thjs  union  nor  for  th^-soidkitself,-^  but  was  necessarily 
cong^rained^  have  recqjxaa-tQ.lhe  cause  of  the  \mi- 
t]-)at  isj  I would  also^\ush  to 

know  how  many  degrees  of  motion  the  soul  can  give 
to  this  pineal  gland,  and  with  what  degree  of  force  it 
can  hold  it  suspended?  For  I know  not  whether 
this  gland  moves  about  more  quickly  or  more  slowly 
when  acted  upon  by  the  soul  than  by  the  animal 
spirits,  and  whether  the  movements  of  the  passions 
which  are  so  closely  connected  with  our  decisions  can- 
not be  dissevered  from  them  by  corporeal  causes,  so 


PT.  V.—PREED0:M— POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.  303 


that  it  might  follow  that  although  the  soul  had 
tirmly  resolved  to  meet  a certain  danger  and  with  this 
decision  had  joined  the  motion  producing  courage, 
nevertheless,  in  presence  of  the  danger  the  gland 
might  not  be  so  suspended  tliat  the  soul  could  think 
of  nothing  but  llight.  And,  indeed,  as  there  is  no 
ratio  given  between  the  will  and  motion,  so  there  can 
be  no  comparison  made  between  the  power  or  force  of* 
the  soul  and  that  of  the  body,  and  consequently  the 
power  of  the  one  can  in  nowise  be  determined  by  the 
power  of  the  other.  Add  to  this,  that  neither  is  the 
])ineal  gland  ascertained  to  be  so  situated  in  the  mid- 
dle ot*  the  brain  that  it  can  be  easily  acted  upon  and 
moved  in  so  many  different  ways,  nor  are  all  the 
nerves  produced  or  extended  to  the  cavities  of  the 
brain. 

I omit  saying  anything  in  reference  to  the  asser- 
tions of  Descartes  as  regards  the  will  and  its  freedom, 
inasmuch  as  I have  more  than  sufficiently  shown  the 
error  of  his  views  on  this  subject.  Therefore,  inas- 
much as  the  power  of  the  soul,  as  I have  shown,  is 
defined  by  the  understanding  alone,  the  remedies 
against  the  affections  or  passions  which  all  experience, 
but  which,  as  I believe,  all  do  not  accurately  observe 
nor  distinctly  understand,  are  only  to  be  determined 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  soul ; and  it  is  from  this  that 
we  shall  deduce  whatsoever  bears  upon  man’s  true 
hapi)iness  or  beatitude. 


AXIOMS. 

I.  If  two  contrary  actions  are  excited  in  the  same 
subject,  a change  must  necessarily  take  j)lace  in  one 
or  both  of  them,  until  they  cease  to  be  contrary. 

II.  The  power  of  an  effect  is  defined  by  the  power 


304 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


of  its  cause,  in  so  far  as  the  essence  of  an  effect  is 
explained  or  deffned  by  the  essence  of  its  cause. 

This  Axiom  is  evident  from  Prop.  7,  Part  III. 

PROPOSITIONS. 

PROP.  I. — According  as  the  thoughts  and  ideas 
, of  things  are  ordered  and  concatenated  in 
the  soul,  in  precisely  the  same  way  are  tlie 
affections  or  images  of  things  ordered  and 
concatenated  in  the  body. 

Demoxstk. — The  order  and  connection  of  ideas  is 
the  same  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  II.)  as  the  order  and  con- 
nection of  things  ; and,  rice  versa,  the  order  and  con- 
nection of  things  is  the  same  as  the  order  and  connec- 
tion of  ideas  (by  Corolls,  to  Props.  G and  7,  Part  II.). 
Wherefore,  just  as  the  order  and  connection  of  ideas 
in  the  soul  corresponds  with  the  order  and  connection 
of  the  affections  of  the  body  (by  Prop.  18,  Part  II.), 
so,  vice  versa  (by  Prop.  2,  Part  III.),  the  order  and 
connection  of  the  affections  of  the  body  follow  ac- 
cording as  the  thoughts  and  ideas  of  things  are  or- 
dered and  concatenated  in  the  soul.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  II. — If  we  disconnect  an  affection  or 
passion  of  the  soul  from  the  thought  of  its 
external  cause,  and  associate  other  thoughts 
with  it,  then  will  Love  or  Hate  toAvards  the 
external  cause,  as  Avell  as  the  ffuctuations 
of  soul  that  arise  from  these  affections,  dis- 
appear. 

Demoxstr. — For  that  Avhich  constitutes  the  form 
or  essence  of  Love  or  Hate  is  Joy  or  Sorrow  associ- 


PT.  V.— FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTA]N^DI]S'G.  305 


atecl  with  the  idea  of  an  external  canse  (by  6 and  7 
Def.  Pass.).  If,  therefore,  this  idea  be  taken  away, 
the  form  of  Love  or  Hate  is  at  the  same  time  abro- 
gated, and  thns  tbe  emotions  or  passions  that  arise 
from  them  are  destroyed  or  disappear,  q.  e.  d. 

PHOP.  III. — An  affection  wliicli  is  a passion 
ceases  to  be  a passion  as  soon  as  we  form  a 
clear  and  distinct  idea  of  it. 

Hemoxstr. — An  affection  which  is  a passion,  is  a 
confused  idea  (by  Gen.  Def.  Pass.).  If,  therefore,  we 
form  to  ourselves  a clear  and  distinct  idea  of  this 
affection,  this  clear  idea  of  it,  in  so  far  as  referred  to 
the  soul  alone,  is  not  distinguished  from  the  affection 
itself  save  by  reason  (by  Props.  22  and  21,  and  its 
SclioL,  Part  II.),  and  so  (by  Pro}).  3,  Part  III.)  it 
ceases  to  be  a passion,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — A passion,  therefore,  is  so  much  the  more 
under  onr  control  and  the  soul  suffers  less  from  it  the 
better  it  is  understood  by  us. 

PROP.  IV. — There  is  no  affection  of  the  body 
of  which  we  cannot  form  some  clear  and 
distinct  conception. 

Demoxstr. — That  which  is  common  to  all  cannot 
])e  conceived  otherwise  than  adequately  (by  Prop.  38, 
Part  II.)  ; so  that  (by  Pro}).  12  and  Lemma  2 whicli 
follow^s  the  Schol.  to  Prop.  13,  Part  II.)  there  is  no 
affection  of  the  body  of  which  we  cannot  form  some 
clear  and  distinct  conception,  q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  there  is  no  passion 
of  wdiich  we  cannot  form  some  clear  and  distinct  con- 
ception. For  a passion  is  the  idea  of  an  affection  of 
the  body  (by  Gen.  Def.  Pass.),  and  for  that  reason 
20 


‘>06  SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 

(by  preceding  Prop.)  it  must  involve  some  clear  and 
distinct  conception  of  the  affection. 

SciiOL. — Since  there  is  nothing  from  which  some 
effect  does  not  follow  (by  Prop.  36,  Part  I.),  and  since 
whatever  follows  from  an  idea  which  is  adequate  in 
us,  is  clearly  and  distinctly  understood  (by  Prop.  40, 
Part  II.),  it  results  from  this  that  every  one  has  the 
power  of  clearly  and  distinctly  understanding  him- 
self and  his  affections,  if  not  absolutely,  yet  partially  ; 
and  consequently  of  suffering  less  from  his  affections. 
The  x)rincipal  thing,  therefore,  that  we  should  labor 
to  accomplish  is  that  each  of  us,  as  far  as  possible, 
should  clearly  and  distinctly  understand  his  affec- 
tions, so  that  the  mind  ma}"  be  determined  by  the 
affection  to  think  of  those  things  which  it  clearly  and 
distinctly  perceives  in  it  and  in  which  it  fully  acqui- 
esces. In  this  way  will  the  affection  itself  be  separ- 
ated from  thoughts  of  an  external  cause  and  be  con- 
- — nected  with  true  thoughts  ; and  then  it  will  come  to 
pass  that  not  only  Love,  Hate,  etc.,  Avill  disappear 
(by  Prop.  2),  but  that  the  appetite  or  desire  Avhich 
usually  arises  from  an  affection  shall  not  be  excessive 
(by  Prop.  61,  Part  IV.).  For  it  is  particularly  to  be 
noted  that  it  is  from  one  and  the  same  appetite  or 
desire  that  man  is  said  to  act  as  AA^ell  as  to  suffer. 
For  example  : ^ye  shoAA'ed  that  human  nature  Avas  so 
constituted  that  eA^ery  one  desired  that  others  should 
live  according  to  his  taste  or  inclination  {?)ide  Schol. 
to  Prop.  31,  Part  III.) ; noAv  this  desire  in  him  AAdio  is 
not  guided  by  reason  is  a passion  AAdiich  is  called 
Ambition,  and  does  not  differ  much  from  Arrogance 
(sttperbia)  ; A\diilst,  on  the  contrary,  in  the  man  AA^ho 
lAes  by  the  dictates  of  reason  it  is  an  action  or  Aurtue 
Avhich  is  called  Piety  or  Duty  {pietas)  {tide  Schol.  1 
to  Prop.  37,  Part  Ho,  and  the  second  Demonstr.  of 


VT.  V.— FREEDOM— POWER  OF  THE  UXDEr.STANDIXG.  3 .7 


same  Prop.).  And  by  tljis  Ave  see  that  all  appetites  or 
desires  are  passions  onl}"  in  so  far  as  they  arise  from 
inadequate  ideas  ; bnt  that  AA'hen  they  are  excited  or 
produced  by  adequate  ideas  they  are  then  ranked 
among  the  Aortnes.  For  all  the  desires  AAdiereby  AA^e 
are  determined  to  do  anything  may  arise  from  ad- 
equate as  Avell  as  from  inadequate  ideas  {vide  Prop. 
o9,  Part  IV.).  And  therefore  (to  return  from  my 
digression)  there  is  nothing  AAuthin  our  poAA^er  or  that 
AA'e  can  conceiA^e  of  more  excellent  as  a remedy  for- 
excessAe  passions  than  that  AAdiich  consists  in  a true 
knoAAdedge  of  their  nature,  since,  indeed,  there  is  nO' 
other  poAA-er  of  the  soul  than  that  of  tbinking  and 
forming  adequate  ideas,  as  AA^e  have  shoAvn  in  another 
place  {vide  Prop.  3,  Part  III.). 

I^KOP.  Y. — The  affection  or  i)assion  Avliich  aa  c 
feel  for  a thing  simply  by  itself,  and  AA  liich 
Ave  do  not  imagine  as  either  necessary,  pos- 
sible, or  contingent,  is,  other  things  being 
equal,  the  strongest  of  all. 

Deaioxstr. — Onr  passion  for  a thing  Avhich  AA^e  im- 
agine to  be  free  is  greater  than  for  a thing  Ave  imagine 
to  be  necessary  (by  Proj).  49,  Part  III.),  and  conse- 
quently it  is  still  greater  than  for  a thing  Ave  imagine 
to  be  possible  or  contingent  (by  Prop.  11,  Part  IV.).. 
But  to  imagine  a thing  as  free  can  be  nothing  else 
than  to  imagine  it  simply  by  itself,  Avhilst  Ave  are 
ignorant  of  the  causes  Avhich  determined  it  to  action 
(as  shoAAm  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  3o,  Part  II.).  VTiere- 
fore  our  passion  for  a thing  Avhich  Ave  imagine  simply 
by  itself,  is,  other  things  being  equal,  greater  than 
for  a possible  or  contingent  thing,  and  consequent!}' 
is  the  strongest  of  all  passions,  q.  e.  d. 


308 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


PKOP.  YT. — In  SO  far  as  the  soul  miderstands 
tliat  all  things  are  necessary,  in  so  hir  has 
it  greater  power  over  the  passions,  or  suffers 
less  from  them. 

De^eoxstPv. — The  soul  understands  that  all  things 
are  necessaiy  (by  Prop.  29,  Part  I.),  and  that  they 
are  determined  to  existence  and  action  by  an  infinity 
of  causes  succeeding  each  other  and  connected  to- 
gether (by  Prop.  28,  Part  1.),  and,  in  consequence  (by 
preceding  Prop.),  it  suffers  less  from  passions  that 
proceed  from  necessary  causes  (by  Prop.  49,"^  Part 
III.),  or  is  less  powerfully  affected  by  them.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — The  more  that  this  knowledge  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  all  things  is  applied  to  particular  things 
which  we  imagine  most  distinctly  and  vividly,  the 
greater  is  the  power  of  the  soul  over  the  emotions  or 
passions  felt  in  respect  of  them  ; and  this  is  also  con- 
firmed by  exiierience, — for  ^ve  see  that  the  sorrow  felt 
for  the  loss  of  something  good  is  mitigated  so  soon 
as  he  who  suffers  the  loss  considers  that  there  was  no 
possibility  of  preserving  the  thing  lost.  So,  also,  do 
we  see  that  no  one  feels  pity  for  an  infant  because  it 
cannot  speak,  or  walk,  or  reason,  or  that  it  has  to  pass 
so  many  years  of  its  life  in  almost  a state  of  ignorance. 
But  if  the  greater  part  of  mankind  were  born  adults, 
and  only  one  here  and  there  was  born  an  infant,  then 
an  infant  would  be  pitied  by  everybody ; because 
then  infancy  would  not  appear  to  be  a natural  and 
necessary  condition,  but  would  be  considered  a vice 
or  fault  of  nature.  And  to  this  many  other  illustra- 
tions might  be  added. 

* The  Edition  of  1677,  and  Bruder’s  Edition,  1843,  here  cite  Prop. 
48,  hut  Prop.  49  seems  intended. — Tr. 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM- -POWER  OF  THE  UXDERSTAIs^DIXG.  309 

PROP.  YII. — Tlie  affections  or  i)assions  tliat 
proceed  from  or  are  excited  by  reason,  if 
regard  is  bad  to  time,  are  more  powerful 
than  those  referred  to  particular  things 
which  are  contemplated  as  absent. 

Demoxstr. — AVe  do  not  contemplate  a thing  as  ab- 
sent by  the  same  atfection  as  that  by  which  we  ima- 
gine it,  but  from  this  : that  the  body  is  affected  b}^ 
some  other  affection  which  excludes  the  existence  of 
the  thing  as  j) resent  (by  Prop.  17,  Part  II.).  Where- 
fore the  affection  that  is  referred  to  a thing  contem- 
plated as  absent  is  not  of  such  a nature  as  surpasses 
the  other  actions  and  powers  of  man  (on  which  point 
vide  Prop.  6,  Part  TV.),  but,  on  the  contrary,  its 
nature  is  such  that  it  can  in  some  manner  be  re- 
strained by  those  affections  which  exclude  the  exist- 
ence of  its  external  cause  (by  Prop.  9,  Part  lY.).  The 
affection,  however,  that  proceeds  from  reason  is  ne- 
cessarily referred  to  the  common  properties  of  things 
{vide  Def.  of  Reason  in  Schol.  2 to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.), 
which  we  always  contemplate  as  present  (for  there  is 
nothing  that  can  exclude  their  present  existence)  and 
which  we  always  imagine  in  the  same  manner  (by 
Prop.  38,  Part  II.).  Wherefore  such  an  affection  re- 
mains always  the  same,  and  consequently  (by  Ax.  1) 
affections  that  are  contrary  or  opposed  to  it  and  not 
nourished  or  strengthened  by  their  external  causes, 
must  more  and  more  accommodate  themselves  to  it 
until  they  cease  to  be  in  opposition,  and  in  so  far  the 
affections  or  passions  that  proceed  from  reason  are 
more  powerful,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 


PROP.  — When  a number  of  causes  simul- 


310 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


taneoiisly  concur  to  excite  any  one  passion, 
it  is  greater. 

Demonstp. — A great  number  of  causes  operating 
together  are  more  powerful  than  a few  (by  Prop.  7, 
Part  III.),  and  consequently  (by  Prop.  5,  Part  IT.) 
Avhen  any  one  passion  is  simultaneously  excited  by  a 
great  number  of  causes,  it  is  greater,  q.  e.  d. 

ScnoL. — This  Proposition  is  made  plain  by  Axiom  2. 

PROP.  IX. — A passion  wliicli  is  referred  to 
many  different  causes  contemplated  by  the 
soul  simultaneously  with  the  passion  itself, 
is  less  noxious,  and  Ave  suffer  less  from  it, 
and  are  therefore  less  affected  by  it  than 
Ave  AA  oiild  be  by  another  equally  poAA  erfnl 
passion  referred  to  a single  cause,  or  to  a 
smaller  number  of  causes. 

Deaionstr. — A passion  is  only  hurtful  in  so  far  as 
it  preA^ents  the  soul  from  thinking  (by  Props.  26  and 
27,  Part  lY.).  Consequently  the  passion  AAdiich  deter- 
mines the  soul  to  contemplate  a great  number  of 
objects  at  the  same  time  is  less  noxious  than  another 
equally  strong  ^^assion  Avliich  by  its  sole  force  so  holds 
or  restricts  the  soul  to  the  contemjDlation  of  only  one 
or  a feAA"  objects  that  it  cannot  think  of  any  others. 
This  in  the  first  place.  Again,  since  the  essence  of 
the  soul,  that  is  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.)?  its  power, 
(consists  solely  in  thought,  therefore  (by  Prop.  11, 
Part  III.)  the  soul  suffers  less  from  a passion  by 
which  it  is  determined  to  contemplate  a great  num- 
ber of  objects  simultaneously,  than  it  does  from  an 
(equally  poAverful  passion  AAdiich  holds  it  to  the  con- 


PT.  V. — FREED0:M — POWER  OFTIIEUXDERSTATs'DIXG.  311 


templation  of  only  one  object,  or  a small  number  of 
objects.  Tills  in  the  second  place.  Lastly,  a passion 
(by  Prop.  48,  Part  III.)  that  is  referred  to  many  ex- 
ternal causes  must,  likewise,  in  respect  of  each  one 
of  these  causes  separately,  affect  us  less.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  X. — So  long  as  we  are  not  agitated  by 
passions  that  are  contrary  to  onr  nature,  so 
long  have  we  the  power  of  ordering  and 
concatenating  the  affections  of  the  body  ac- 
cording to  the  order  of  the  understanding. 

Demoxstr. — Passions  that  are  contrary  to  our  na- 
ture, that  is  (by  Prop.  30,  Part  lY.),  which  are  bad, 
are  bad  in  so  far  as  they  are  an  impediment  to  the 
soul’s  understanding  (by  Prop.  27,  Part  lY.).  So 
long,  therefore,  as  we  are  not  agitated  by  passions 
contrary  to  our  nature,  so  long  is  the  power  of  th^ 
soul  by  which  it  seeks  to  understand  things  (by  Prop. 
26,  Part  lY.)  not  impeded  ; and  so  long,  therefore, 
has  it  the  power  of  forming  clear  and  distinct  ideas, 
and  of  deducing  others  from  them  in  succession  {vidt 
Schol.  2,  Prop.  40,  and  Schol.  Prop.  47,  Part  II.) ; and, 
consequently  (by  Prop.  1),  so  long  has  it  the  power 
of  ordering  and  concatenating  tlie  affections  of  the 
body  according  to  the  order  of  the  understanding. 
Q.  E.  n. 

ScnoL. — This  power  of  rightly  ordering  and  con- 
catenating our  bodily  affections  enables  us  to  resist 
being  easily  influenced  by  bad  passions.  For  (by 
Prop.  7)  a greater  force  is  requisite  to  restrain  or 
coerce  affections  concatenated  according  to  the  order 
of  the  understanding  or  intellect,  than  for  those  that 
are  vague  and  uncertain.  The  best  that  we  can  do, 


312 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


therefore,  so  long  as  we  have  not  a perfect  knowledge 
of  onr  passions,  is  to  conceive  a way  of  living  accord- 
ing to  right  reason,  to  adopt  certain  rules  for  our 
conduct,  commit  them  to  memory,  and  apply  them 
continually  to  those  particular  cases  which  we  fre- 
quently meet  with  in  the  course  of  our  lives,  so  that, 
our  imagination  being  profoundly  affected  by  them, 
we  shall  always  have  them  present  in  our  minds.  For 
example,  suppose  we  have  laid  it  down  among  the 
rules  for  the  conduct  of  life  {vide  Prop.  46  and  its 
SchoL,  Part  lY.),  that  Hate  is  to  be  vanquished  by 
Love  or  Generosity,  and  not  paid  back  by  recipro- 
cated Hate.  Xow  if  we  would  have  this  precept  of 
reason  always  present  in  our  minds  when  there  is  use 
for  it,  we  should  often  think  of  and  meditate  upon 
those  wrongs  or  injuries  that  are  common  among  men, 
and  of  the  best  way  of  averting  them  by  generosity  ; 
so  that  the  image  of  an  injury  or  injustice  will  be 
associated  in  our  imagination  with  this  precept  of 
reason,  and  then  we  shall  always  have  it  present  in 
our  minds  (by  Prop.  18,  Part  II.)  whenever  an  injury 
is  done  to  us.  And  if  we  also  have  in  view  what  is 
truly  useful  and  good  to  us,  and  think  of  the  benefits 
that  flow  from  social  life  and  mutual  friendship,  and 
Avhat  perfect  peace  of  mind  ensues  from  living  rightly, 
in  conformity  with  reason  (b3^  Prop.  62,  Part  lY.), — 
and  further,  that  men,  like  all  other  beings,  act  by 
the  necessity  of  their  nature,  then  will  the  hate  which 
usually  arises  from  an  injuiy  done,  take  the  slightest 
hold  upon  our  imagination  and  be  the  most  easih- 
overcome  ; or  should  the  Anger  that  arises  from  great 
injuries  be  not  so  easily  subdued,  it  will  nevertheless 
be  overcome,  although  not  without  a struggle  or  vacil- 
lation of  mind,  but  for  a much  shorter  sx)ace  of  time 
than  if  we  had  not  made  this  j^recept  the  subject  of 


PT.  V.— FREEDOM— POWER  OF  THE  U^^DERSTANDI]S"G.  313 


our  previous  meditations,  as  is  evident  by  Proposi- 
tions 6,  7,  and  8. 

And  to  put  aside  or  overcome  Fear  by  Courage  the 
saaie  course  of  meditation  must  be  pursued  : — we 
must  often  imagine  and  ]Dass  in  review  the  common 
dangers  of  life,  and  think  of  how  they  may  best  be 
avoided  or  overcome  by  presence  of  mind  and  forti- 
tude. But  it  is  to  be  noted  here,  that  in  ordering  our 
thoughts  and  imaginations  we  are  always  to  be  obser- 
vant of  what  there  is  of  good  in  everything  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  63,  Part  lY.,  and  Prop.  59,  Part  III.),  so 
that  we  may  always  be  determined  to  action  by  an 
emotion  or  passion  of  joy.  For  examjAe  : if  any  one 
is  cognizant  that  he  is  too  eager  for  glory  or  fame,  he 
should  think  of  the  right  use  of  it,  for  what  object 
or  end  it  is  to  be  pursued,  and  by  what  means  it  may 
be  acquired  ; but  he  should  not  think  of  its  abuse,  of 
its  vanity,  of  the  fickleness  of  mankind,  or  of  any 
such  thing  as  morbidly  minded  men  think  of  ; for 
these  are  the  thoughts  with  wliicli  the  over-ambi- 
tious are  greatly  troubled  when  they  despair  of 
achieving  the  honor  to  which  they  aspire,  and  who, 
Avhilst  wishing  to  appear  wise,  only  show  their  irrita- 
bility. It  is  certain  that  they  are  often  the  most  desi- 
rous of  fame  who  declaim  most  loudly  against  its 
abuse  and  denounce  the  vanities  of  the  world.  Nor, 
indeed,  is  this  peculiar  to  the  ambitious,  but  is  com- 
mon to  all  whom  fortune  does  not  favor  and  Avho  are 
of  feeble  spirit.  For  the  covetous  poor  man  is  for  ever 
speaking  of  the  abuses  of  wealth  and  the  vices  of  the 
rich,  and  in  so  doing  he  does  but  torment  himself  and 
shows  plainly  that  he  is  not  only  impatient  at  his  own 
poverty,  biit  also  discontented  at  the  fortune  of  others. 
So,  also,  he  who  is  coldly  received  by  his  mistress 
thinks  of  nothing  but  the  inconstancy,  deceitfulness. 


314 


SPmOZA’s  ETHICS. 


and  other  vices  so  often  imputed  to  women — all  of 
which,  however,  is  forgotten  as  soon  as  he  is  again 
received  with  favor.  He,  therefore,  who  would  study 
to  moderate  his  passions  and  appetites  solely  through 
love  of  freedom,  endeavors,  as  much  as  possible,  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  virtues  and  their  causes, 
and  to  fill  his  soul  with  the  joy  that  arises  from  true 
knowledge  of  them  ; and  on  the  contrary,  he  con- 
templates the  vices  of  mankind  as  little  as  possible, 
delights  not  in  traducing  them,  and  is  not  deceived  by 
any  false  appearance  of  freedom.  Whoever  diligently 
observes  and  practises  these  jirecepts  (and  they  are 
not  difficult)  will  in  a short  space  of  time  be  able  to 
direct  the  most  of  his  actions  according  to  the  com- 
mands of  reason. 


PROP.  XI. — The  greater  the  number  of  things 
to  which  an  image  is  referred,  the  more 
frequently  and  vividly  does  it  occupy  the 
soul. 

Hemoxstr. — For  the  more  things  an  image  or  an 
affection  is  referred  to,  the  greater  will  be  the  number 
of  causes  or  things  that  will  excite  and  maintain  it  ; 
all  of  which  things  the  soul  (by  hyiDothesis)  contem- 
jilates  simultaneously  with  the  image  or  affection  it- 
self ; and  therefore  is  the  image  or  affection  more  fre- 
quent and  vivid  (by  Prop.  8.),  and  the  more  does  it 
occupy  the  soul.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XII. — We  connect  images  of  things 
more  easily  with  images  referred  to  things 
we  clearly  and  distinctly  understand,  than 
we  do  with  others. 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM — POWEPv  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.  315 


Demonstr. — The  things  we  clearly  and  distinctly 
understand  are  either  the  coinmon  properties  of 
things,  or  are  deduced  from  these  properties  {vk7e 
Def.  of  Reason  in  Schol.  2,  Prop.  40,  Part  II.),  and 
consequently  (by  preceding  Prop.)  they  are  oftener 
excited  in  us  than  others  are.  And  hence  it  is  that 
we  contemplate  such  things  more  readily  and  simul- 
taneously with  things  clearly  and  distinctly  under- 
stood than  with  others  ; and  consequently  (by  Prop. 
18,  Part  II.)  we  associate  them  more  easily  with  these 
than  with  others.  Q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XIII. — The  greater  the  iiiiinber  of 
images  with  which  any  particular  image 
is  associated,  the  more  vivid  is  it. 

Demonstr. — For  the  greater  the  number  of  images 
with  Avliich  it  is  associated,  so  (by  Prop.  18,  Part  II.) 
the  more  numerous  will  be  the  causes  by  which  it 
may  be  excited,  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XIY. — The  soul  is  capable  of  referring 
all  the  affections  of  the  body,  or  images  of 
things,  to  the  idea  of  Ood. 

Demonstr. — There  is  no  affection  of  the  body  of 
which  the  soul  cannot  form  a clear  and  distimd  con- 
ception (by  Prop.  4),  and  so  it  is  cajiable  (by  Pro]). 
15,  Part  I.)  of  referring  all  to  the  idea  of  God.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XV. — He  Avho  clearly  and  distinctly  un- 
derstands himself  and  his  affections  loves 
Grod,  and  this  by  so  much  the  more  the  more 
he  understands  himself  and  his  affections. 

Demonstr. — He  who  clearly  and  distinctly  under- 


316 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


stands  liimself  and  liis  affections,  rejoices  (by  Prop.  53, 
Part  III.),  and  Ids  joy  is  in  concomitance  with  tlie 
idea  of  God  (by  preceding  Prop.).  Consequently  he 
loves  God  (by  6 Del  Pass.)  ; and  (for  the  same  rea- 
son) loves  so  much  the  more  the  more  he  understands 
himself  and  his  affections.  Q.  E.  d. 

PKOP.  XYI. — Love  towards  God  should 
chiefly  occupy  the  soul. 

Demonstk. — For  this  love  is  joined  to  all  the  affec- 
tions of  the  body  (by  Prop.  14),  by  all  of  which  it  is 
fostered  (by  Prop.  15).  Therefore  (by  Prop.  11) 
should  it  chiefly  occupy  the  soul.  Q.  e.  d. 

PKOP.  XYII. — God  is  exempt  from  all  pas- 
sions ; neither  is  God  affected  by  any  emo- 
tion of  joy  or  sorroAV. 

Demonste. — All  ideas  in  so  far  as  they  are  referred 
to  God  are  true  (by  Prop.  82,  Part  II.),  that  is  (by 
Del  4,  Part  II.),  they  are  adequate  ; consequently 
(by  Gen.  Del  Pass.)  God  is  Avithout  passions.  Again, 
God  can  neither  j^ass  from  a greater  to  a less,  nor  from 
a less  to  a greater  state  of  perfection  (by  Coroll.  2, 
Prop.  20,  Part  I.),  and  therefore  (by  2 and  3 Defs. 
Pass.)  can  be  affected  by  no  joy  nor  soitoaa".  q.  e.  n. 

CoEOLL. — God  cannot  properly  be  said  to  loA^e  any 
one,  nor  to  hate  any  one.  For  God  (by  preceding 
Prop.)  is  neither  affected  by  joy  nor  sorrow,  and  con- 
sequently (by  6 and  7 Defs.  Pass.)  can  neither  loA^e 
nor  hate  any  one. 

PROP.  XYIII.— Xo  one  can  hate  God. 
Demonste. — The  idea  of  God  which  is  in  us,  is  ade- 


PT.  Y. — FREEDOM— POAVER  OF  THE  UNDERSTAXDIXG.  317 


qnate  and  perfect  (by  Props.  46  and  47,  Part  II.)  ; in 
so  far  therefore  as  we  contemplate  God,  in  so  far  do 
we  act  (by  Prop.  3,  Part  III.)  ; and  consequently  (by 
Prop.  59,  Part  III.)  there  can  be  no  soitoav  concomi- 
tant Avith  the  idea  of  God  ; that  is  (by  7 Del  Pass.), 
no  one  can  hate  God.  Q.  e.  d. 

Coroll. — LoA^e  towards  God  cannot  be  changed 
into  hate. 

SciioL. — It  may  be  objected,  liOAA^eA’er,  that  as  Ave 
nnderstand  God  to  be  the  cause  of  all  things,  so  must 
we  also  consider  God  as  the  cause  of  our  soitoaa^s. 
But  to  this  I reply,  that  in  so  far  as  Ave  nnderstand 
the  cause  of  soitoaa^,  in  so  far  (by  Prop.  3)  does  sor- 
row cease  to  be  a passion  ; that  is  (by  Prop.  59,  Part 
III.),  in  so  far  does  it  cease  to  be  soitoaa^  ; so  that  in 
so  far  as  AA^e  understand  God  to  be  the  cause  of  our 
sorroAv,  in  so  far  should  Ave  rejoice. 

PKOP.  XIX. — He  AA  ho  Ioa  es  God  cannot  seek 
to  liaA  e God  Ioa  e him  in  return. 

Deaioxstr. — If  man  did  seek  for  such  return  of 
loA^e,  he  AA^onld  thereby  desire  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  17) 
that  God,  AAdiom  he  loA^es,  should  not  be  God  ; and 
consequently  (by  Prop.  19,  Part  III.)  he  AA^onld  desire 
to  be  grieved,  which  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  III.)  is  ab- 
surd. Wherefore  he  aaIio  loA^es  God,  etc.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XX. — This  Ioa  e Ioaa  ards  God  cannot  be 
sullied  by  any  feeling  of  eiiA  y or  of  jeal- 
onsy,  but  is  fostered  AAithin  ns  so  mncli 
the  more  as  the  nnmber  is  greater  of  men 
Avhom  Ave  imagine  to  be  bound  to  God  by 
the  same  ties  of  loxe, 

Deaioxstr. — This  loA^e  toAA^ards  God  is  the  summiun 


318 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


honuin^  the  highest  good  that  man  guided  by  tlie  dic- 
tates of  reason  can  desire  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  IV.) ; and 
it  is  common  to  all  mankind  (by  Prop.  36,  Part  IV.), 
and  we  can  desire  that  all  should  alike  enjoy  it  (by 
Prop.  37,  Part  IV.)  ; consequently  (by  23  I)ef.  Pass.) 
it  cannot  be  defiled  by  any  passion  of  envy  or  jeal- 
ous}^ (b}^  Prop.  18,  this  Part,  and  the  Def.  of  Jealousy 
in  Schol.  to  Prop.  3o,  Part  III.) ; on  the  contrary  (by 
Prop.  31,  Part  III.),  it  is  cherished  all  the  more  the 
greater  the  number  of  men  whom  we  imagine  to  enjoy 
or  participate  in  it.  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — We  could  in  like  manner  show  that  there 
is  no  jiassion  directl^^  opposed  to  this  love  of  God,  or 
that  can  destroy  it ; and  hence  we  may  conclude  that 
this  love  towards  God  is  the  most  constant  of  all  our 
emotions,  and  in  so  far  as  it  is  referred  to  the  body 
that  it  can  only  be  destroyed  with  the  body  itself. 
As  to  the  nature  of  this  love,  in  so  far  as  it  is  referred 
to  the  soul  alone,  we  shall  see  further  on. 

In  preceding  Propositions  I have  embraced  all  the 
remedies  against  excessive  passions,  or  all  such  as 
the  soul,  considered  in  itself  alone,  can  effect  against 
them  ; from  which  it  apx)ears  that  the  power  of  the 
soul  over  the  passions  consists : 1.  In  knowledge  of 
the  passions  themselves  {mde  Schol.  to  Prop.  4).  2. 

In  the  separation  of  a passion  from  the  knowledge  of 
its  external  cause,  which  we  imagine  confusedly  {vide 
Prop.  2 and  its  Schol.  and  ProjD.  4).  3.  In  the  time 
wherein  passions  referred  to  things  we  understand 
surpass  those  that  are  referred  to  things  which  we 
conceive  in  a confused  or  imperfect  manner  {vide 
Prop.  7).  4.  In  the  multiplicity  of  causes  whereb}’" 
those  passions  which  are  referred  to  the  common  pro- 
perties of  things,  or  to  God,  are  fostered  {vide  Props. 

9 and  11).  5.  Lastly,  in  the  order  in  which  the  soul 


PT.  V. — FPvEEDOM — POWEK  OF  THE  UNDEKSTAXDIXG.  319 

can  arrange  and  concatenate  its  passions  with  one 
another  {vide  Schol.  to  Prop.  10,  and  Props.  12,  13, 
and  14). 

But  that  this  power  of  the  sonl  over  its  passions 
may  be  better  understood,  it  is  important  to  observe 
tliat  the  affections  or  passions  are  by  ns  called  great 
or  powerful  when,  comparing  the  passions  of  one 
man  with  those  of  another,  we  perceive  that  one  is 
more  powerfully  affected  by  tlie  same  passion  than 
another ; or  when,  comparing  the  passions  of  one  and 
the  same  man,  we  hnd  that  he  is  moved  or  affected 
more  powerfully  by  some  one  passion  than  by  an- 
other. For  (by  Prop,  o,  Part  IV.)  the  power  of  each 
affection  is  defined  by  the  x^ower  of  its  external  cause 
as  comx^ared  with  our  own  x^ower.  But  the  x^ower  of 
the  soul  is  defined  by  its  knowledge  alone  ; and  its 
impotence  or  x^^^ssion,  is  defined  by  its  x^rivation  of 
knowledge  alone  ; that  is,  by  what  is  called  its  inade- 
quate ideas.  AVhence  it  follows  that  that  soul  suffers 
most  which  is  x^i'incixmlly  constituted  of  inadequate 
ideas  ; for  such  a soul  is  indeed  distinguished  rather 
by  what  it  suffers  than  by  what  it  effects  ; whilst,  on 
the  contrary,  that  soul  acts  the  most  which  is  the 
most  largely  constituted  of  adequate  ideas.  Such  a 
soul,  although  it  may  contain  as  many  inadequate 
ideas  as  the  former,  is  nevertheless  distinguished 
more  by  the  ideas  upon  which  human  virtue  or  power 
dex^end  than  by  those  that  argue  human  imx^otency. 
It  is  further  to  be  observed,  that  mental  anxieties 
{cer/ritudo)  and  distresses  {infort unia)  mainly  have 
their  origin  in  excessive  love  of  things  that  are  sub- 
ject to  many  vicissitudes,  and  of  the  durable  posses- 
sion of  which  we  can  never  be  assured.  For  no  one 
is  solicitous  or  anxious  about  a thing  unless  he  loves 
it,  nor  do  susxncions,  enmities,  injuries,  etc.,  arise  save 


820 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


from  love  of  tilings  which  no  one  can  assuredly  and 
truly  possess.  From  all  this  we  readily  conceive  what 
power  clear  and  distinct  knowledge,  and  especially 
that  third  kind  of  knowledge  (of  which  see  Schol.  to 
Prop.  47,  Part  II.)  whose  foundation  is  knowledge  of 
God,  can  have  over  the  affections  in  so  far  as  they  are 
l^assions  ; for  if  they  are  not  absolutely  destroyed  or 
suppressed  by  it  {mde  Prop.  3 and  Schol.  to  Prop.  4), 
they  are  at  all  events  made  to  constitute  the  very 
smallest  part  of  the  soul.  Moreover,  this  knowledge 
engenders  love  towards  the  Immutable  and  Eternal 
Being  {vide  Prop.  15),  which  love  we  may  truly  possess 
{vide  Prop.  45,  Part  II.)  ; and  it  cannot  be  sullied  by 
any  of  the  vices  that  pertain  to  common  love,  but 
may  go  on  increasing  more  and  more  (by  Prop.  15) 
and  so  come  at  length  to  chiefly  occupy  the  soul  (by 
Prop.  16)  and  extend  its  influence  over  it. 

This  completes  all  that  I had  designed  to  say  re- 
specting this  present  life.  For  by  attending  to  what 
is  said  at  the  beginning  of  this  Scholium,  and  to  our 
deflnitions  of  the  soul  and  its  passions,  and,  lastly,  to 
Props.  1 and  3,  Part  III.,  it  will  be  seen  that  I have, 
in  a few  words,  embraced  in  this  Scholium  all  the 
remedies  for  excessive  passions.  It  is  now  time,  there- 
fore, to  pass  on  to  the  consideration  of  that  which 
pertains  to  the  duration  of  the  soul  without  relation 
to  the  body. 

PKOP.  XXI. — The  soul  can  imagine  nothing, 
neither  can  it  remember  anything  that  is 
Xiast,  save  during  the  continuance  of  the 
body. 

Demoxstk. — The  mind  or  soul  does  not  express  the 
actual  existence  of  the  body,  neither  does  it  conceive 


PT.  V.  — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.  321 


tlie  affections  of  the  body  as  actual,  save  whilst  the 
body  endures  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  8,  Part  II.) ; conse- 
quently (by  Prop.  26,  Part  II.)  it  cannot  conceive  any 
other  body  as  actually  existing,  except  whilst  its 
own  body  exists.  Hence  it  follows  that  the  soul  can 
neither  imagine  Hef.  Imagination  in  Schol.  to 

Prop.  17,  Part  II.)  nor  remember  anything  that  is 
past,  except  so  long  as  its  own  body  continues  to  ex- 
ist {vide  Def.  Memory  in  Schol.  to  Prop.  18,  Part  II.). 

Q.  E.  D. 


PROP.  XXII. — There  - is,  however,  necessarily 
in  Grod  an  idea  w Iiicli  expresses  the  essence 
of  this  or  that  lininan  body  under  the  form 
of  eternity. 


Hemonstr. — God  is  not  only  the  cause  of  the  exist 
ence  of  this  or  that  human  body,  but  also  of  its  es 
sence  (by  Prop.  2o,  Part  I.),  which  must  therefore  be  / 
necessarily  conceived  by  the  very  essence  of  God  (by 
Ax.  4,  Part  I.),  and  this  in  virtue  of  a certain  eternal 
necessity  (by  Prop.  16,  Part  I.) ; hence  this  concep- 
tion or  idea  must  necessarily  be  in  God  (Prop.  3, 
Part  II.).  Q.  e.  d. 


PROP.  XXIII. — The  hmnan  soul  cannot  be 
absolutely  destroyed  along  with  the  body ; 
something  of  it  remains  which  is  eternal. 

Demonstr. — There  is  necessarily  in  God  a concep- 
tion or  idea  which  expresses  the  essence  of  the  human 
body  (by  preceding  Prop.),  and  this  idea  is  necessarily 
something  that  pertains  to  the  essence  of  the  human 
soul  (by  Prop.  13,  Part  II.).  But  we  do  not  assign  to 
the  human  soul  any  duration  that  can  be  defined  or 
21 


322 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


measured  by  time,  save  in  so  far  as  it  is  expressed  by 
the  actual  existence  of  the  body,  which  may  be 
explained  b}^  duration  and  delined  hy  time  ; in 
other  words  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  8,  Part  II.),  we  do 
not  assign  duration  to  the  soul  save  and  except  in  so 
far  as  we  assign  duration  to  the  body.  Nevertheless, 
as  there  is  necessarily  a soniething  which  by  a certain 
eternal  necessity  is  conceived  by  the  very  essence  of 
Clod  (by  X) receding  Prop.),  this  something  xiertaining 
to  the  essence  of  the  soul  will  necessarily  be  eternal. 

Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — This  idea  which  ex^iresses  the  essence  of 
the  body  under  a form  of  eternity  is,  as  we  have  said, 
a certain  mode  of  thought  which  jiertains  to  the 
essence  of  the  soul  and  is  necessaril}-  eternal.  Still 
it  is  not  possible  that  we  could  have  any  recollection 
of  ourselves  before  the  existence  of  our  bodies, 
inasmuch  as  there  is  no  vestige  in  our  bodies  of 
such  a x^re-existence,  nor  can  eternity  be  defined  by 
time,  nor  be  said  to  have  any  relation  to  time.  Never- 
theless we  feel  and  believe  that  we  are  eternal.  For 
the  soul  no  less  truly  perceives  those  things  it  con- 
ceives by  the  understanding  than  those  it  remembers. 
For  demonstrations  are  the  very  eyes  of  the  soul  by 
which  it  x^erceives  and  observes  things.  Therefore, 
although  we  have  no  remembrance  of  our  existence 
before  the  existence  of  the  body,  Ave  nevertheless  feel 
that  our  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  involves  the  essence  of 
the  body  under  a form  or  species  of  eternity,  is  eter- 
nal, and  that  this  eternal  existence  cannot  be  defined 
l)y  time  or  explained  by  duration.  Our  soul,  there- 
fore, can  only  be  said  to  have  duration,  and  its  exist- 
ence to  be  delined  by  a certain  time,  in  so  far  as  the 
actual  existence  of  the  body  is  involved  ; and  in  so  far 
only  has  it  the  poAver  of  determining  the  existence  of 


PT.  V.— FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UXDERSTAXDIXG.  323 


things  in  time,  and  of  conceiving  them  under  the  as- 
pect of  duration. 

PEOP.  XXIV. — The  more  we  understand  indi- 
vidual things,  the  more  do  we  understand 
God. 

Demoxstr. — This  is  made  manifest  by  the  Corollary 
to  Pro})  25,  Part  I. 

PEOP.  XXV. — The  highest  effort  of  the  soul 
and  its  highest  virtne  is  to  understand 
things  b}^  the  third  kind  of  knowledge. 

Demoxstp.. — The  third  kind  of  knowledge  proceeds 
from  an  adequate  idea  of  certain  attributes  of  God 
to  an  adequate  cognition  of  the  essence  of  things  (for 
the  definition  of  this  third  kind  of  knowledge  tide 
Schol.  2 to  Prop.  40,  Part  II.)  ; and  the  more  we  un- 
derstand things  in  this  way,  the  more  do  we  under- 
stand God  (by  preceding  Prop.).  Consequently  (by 
Prop.  28,  Part  IV.)  the  highest  virtue  of  the  soul, 
that  is  (by  Def.  8,  Part  IV.),  the  highest  poAver  or 
nature  of  the  soul,  or  (by  Prop.  7,  Part  III.)  its  high- 
est effort,  is  to  understand  things  by  this  third  kind 
of  knoAvledge.  q.  e.  d. 

PEOP.  XXVI. — The  more  apt  the  soul  is  to 
understand  things  by  the  third  kind  of 
knoAvledge,  the  more  does  it  desire  to  un- 
derstand them  by  this  kiml  of  knoAvledge. 

Demoxstr. — This  is  obAuous.  For  in  so  far  as  Ave 
conceive  the  soul  to  be  apt  to  understand  things  by 
this  kind  of  knoAvledge,  so  far  do  AA^e  concewe  it  de- 
termined to  understand  them  in  this  A\'ay  ; and  conse- 


324 


SPINOZA’S  ETHICS. 


queiitly  (by  1 Def.  Pass.)  tlie  more  apt  the  soul  is  to 
understand  in  this  way,  the  more  does  it  desire  to  do 
so.  Q.  E.  D. 

PEOP.  XXYII. — Prom  tliis  third  kind  of  know- 
ledge arises  the  highest  acquiescence  or 
contentment  of  mind. 

Demonstr. — The  highest  virtue  of  the  soul  is  to 
know  God  (by  Prop.  28,  Part  lY.),  or  to  understand 
things  by  this  third  kind  of  knowledge  (by  Prop.  25) ; 
and  this  virtue  or  power  itself  is  by  so  much  the 
greater  the  more  the  soul  knows  things  by  this  third 
kind  of  knowledge  (by  Proj).  24).  He,  therefore,  who 
knows  things  in  this  way  attains  to  the  highest  de- 
gree of  human  perfection,  and  consequently  (by  2 
Hef.  Pass.)  is  atfected  by  the  highest  joy,  and  this 
(by  Prop.  43,  Part  II.)  in  association  with  the  idea  of 
himself  and  his  virtue  ; and  therefore  (by  25  Def. 
Pass.)  from  this  kind  of  knowledge  arises  the  highest 
contentment  of  soul.  q.  e.  d. 

PEOP.  XXVIII. — The  effort  or  desire  to  know 
things  by  this  third  kind  of  knoAvledge  can- 
not proceed  from  knowledge  of  the  first 
kind,  but  it  can  from  that  of  the  second 
kind. 

Demonste. — This  Proposition  is  self-evident.  For 
whatever  thing  we  understand  clearly  and  distinctly, 
we  understand  either  by  or  through  the  thing  itself,  or 
b}^  and  through  some  other  thing  which  is  conceived 
by  itself ; that  is  to  say,  those  ideas  that  are  clear 
and  distinct  in  our  minds,  or  that  are  referred  to  the 
third  kind  of  knowledge  {vide  Schol.  2 to  Prop.  40, 
Part  IL),  cannot  proceed  from  confused  and  i^utilated 


PT.  Y. — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTAXDIXG.  325 


ideas  wliicli  (by  same  Scliol.)  are  referable  to  know- 
ledge of  the  first  kind  ; bnt  only  from  adequate  ideas 
or  (by  same  Scliol.)  knowledge  of  the  second  or  third 
kinds.  Therefore  (by  1 Def.  Pass.)  the  desire  to 
know  things  by  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  cannot 
arise  from  that  of  the  first  kind,  bnt  it  can  from  that 
of  the  second  kind.  q.  e.  d. 

PROP.  XXIX. — Whatever  the  soul  understands 
under  the  form  of  eternity,  it  understands 
not  because  it  coneeives  the  actual  present 
existenee  of  the  body,  but  because  it  con- 
ceives the  essence  of  the  body  under  the 
form  of  eternity. 

Demoxstr. — In  so  far  as  the  soul  conceives  the 
present  existence  of  its  body,  so  far  does  it  conceive 
duration  which  can  be  determined  by  time,  and  so  far 
only  has  it  power  to  conc'eive  things  with  relation  to 
time  (by  Prop.  21,  this  Part,  and  Prop.  26,  Part  II.). 
Bnt  eternity  cannot  be  explained  by  duration  (b}" 
Def.  8,  Part  I.,  and  its  exx)lanation).  In  so  far,  there- 
fore, the  soul  has  not  power  to  conceive  tilings  under 
the  form  of  eternity.  Bnt  as  it  pertains  to  the  nature 
of  reason  to  conceive  things  under  the  form  of  eter- 
nity (by  Coroll.  2,  Prop.  44,  Part  II.),  and  also  to 
the  nature  of  the  soul  to  conceive  the  essence  of  the 
body  under  the  form  of  eternity  (by  Prop.  23),  and  as 
besides  these  two  no  other  conceptions  pertain  to  the 
essence  of  the  soul  (by  Prop.  13,  Part  II.),  therefore 
the  power  of  conceiving  things  under  the  form  of 
eternity  does  not  belong  to  the  soul  save  in  so  far  as 
it  conceives  the  essence  of  the  body  under  the  form 
of  eternity,  q.  e.  d. 

ScnoL. — We  conceive  things  as  actualities  in  two 


826 


Spinoza’s  ethics. 


ways : either  as  they  exist  with  relation  to  a certain 
time  and  place,  or  as  we  conceiye  them  to  be  com- 
])i‘ised  in  God  and  to  follow  from  the  necessity  of  the 
Divine  Mature.  Those  that  we  conceive  in  this  second 
way  as  true  or  real  we  conceive  under  the  form  of 
eternity,  and  ideas  of  these  involve  the  eternal  and 
inlinite  essence  of  God,  as  we  have  shown  in  Prop. 
4o,  Part  II.,  and  its  SchoL,  which  see. 

PKOP.  XXX. — In  so  far  as  oiir  soul  knows 
itself  and  its  body  under  the  form  of  eter- 
nity, in  so  far  has  it  necessarily  a knowledge 
of  God,  and  knows  that  it  is  in  God  and  is 
conceived  through  God. 

Demonstr. — Eternity  is  the  very  essence  of  God, 
inasmuch  as  this  essence  involves  necessary  existence 
(by  Def.  8,  Part  I.).  To  conceive  things  under  the 
form  of  eternity,  therefore,  is  to  conceive  things  as 
real  entities  in  so  far  as  they  are  conceived  by  or 
through  the  essence  of  God,  or  in  so  far  as  through 
the  essence  of  God  they  involve  existence.  Thus, 
therefore,  our  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  conceives  itself 
and  its  body  under  the  form  of  eternity,  in  so  far  has 
it  necessarily  a knowledge  of  God,  and  knows,  etc. 

Q.  E.  D. 

PPOP.  XXXI. — Knowledge  of  the  third  kind 
depends  upon  the  soul  as  its  formal  cause, 
in  so  far  as  the  soul  itself  is  eternal. 

Demonstr. — The  soul  conceives  nothing  under  the 
form  of  eternity  except  in  so  far  as  the  essence  of 
the  body  itself  is  so  conceived  (by  Prop.  29),  that  is 
to  say  (by  Proiis.  21  and  23),  in  so  far  as  the  soul  is 


PT.  V, — FEEEDOM— POWER  OF  THE  FNDERSTAXDIXG.  327 


itself  eternal ; consequently  (by  preceding  Prop.)  in 
so  far  as  tlie  soul  is  eternal,  it  has  knowledge  of  God, 
and  tills  knowledge  is  necessarily  adequate  (by  Prop. 
46,  Part  II.);  and  hence  it  is  that  the  soul,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  eternal,  is  apt  or  htted  to  know  all  things  that 
can  follow  from  this  knowledge  of  God  (by  Prop.  40, 
Part  II.),  i.e.  to  know  things  by  the  third  kind  of 
knowledge  (vide  Def.  in  Schol.  2 to  Prop.  40,  Paid 
II.),  of  which  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  is  eternal,  is 
(by  Def.  I,  Part  III.)  the  formal  or  adequate  cause. 

Q.  E.  D. 

SciiOL. — The  more  advanced  or  learned  therefore 
each  one  is  in  this  kind  of  knowledge,  the  greater  is 
his  consciousness  of  himself  and  of  God  ; tliat  is,  the 
more  perfect  and  blessed  is  he, — as  will  more  clearly 
appear  in  what  follows.  But  it  is  here  to  be  observed, 
that  although  it  be  certain  that  the  soul  is  eternal  in 
so  far  as  it  conceives  things  under  the  form  of  eter- 
nity, yet  in  order  to  explain  more  easily  and  to  better 
understand  what  we  still  wish  to  show,  we  shall  con- 
sider the  soul  as  if  it  were  beginning  to  be,  and  just 
commencing  to  understand  things  under  the  form  of 
eternity;  and  this  we  may  do  without  danger  of 
falling  into  error,  provided  we  are  careful  to  come  to 
no  conclusion  except  upon  the  clearest  premises. 

PKOP.  XXXII. — Whatever  we  understand  by 
the  third  kind  of  knowledge  gives  ns  a 
feeling  of  delight,  of  joy,  and  this  is  asso- 
ciated with  the  idea  of  Gfod  as  its  cause. 

Demoxstr. — From  this  kind  of  knowledge  arises 
the  most  perfect  satisfaction  or  contentment  of  the 
soul,  that  is  to  say  (by  2o  Def.  Pass.),  the  highest 
joy,  concomitant  with  the  idea  of  the  soul  itself  (by 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


328 

Prop.  27),  and  consequently  (by  Prop.  30)  concomitant 
also  witli  tlie  idea  of  God  as  its  cause. 

Coroll. — From  tlie  third  kind  of  knowledge  neces- 
sarily arises  the  Intellectual  Love  of  God.  For,  from 
this  kind  of  knowledge  arises  perfect  joy  associated 
with  the  idea  of  God  as  its  cause  ; that  is  (by  6 Def. 
Pass.),  Love  of  God,  not  as  God  is  imagined  to  be 
present  (by  Prop.  29),  but  as  God  is  understood  to  be 
eternal ; and  this  is  what  I call  the  intellectual  love 
of  God. 


PROP.  XXXIII. — The  intellectual  love  towards 
Grod  which  arises  from  the  third  kind  of 
knoAvledge  is  eternal. 

Demoxstr. — For  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  is 
itself  eternal  (by  Prop.  31,  this  Part,  and  Axiom  3, 
Part  I.)  ; therefore  (by  same  Ax.)  the  love  that  arises 
from  it  is  necessarily  eternal  also.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — Although  this  intellectual  love  towards 
God  shall  have  had  no  beginning  (by  j)i"eceding 
Prop.),  nevertheless  it  has  all  the  perfections  of  Love, 
precisely  as  it  would  had  it  arisen  in  the  way  we  have 
supposed  in  the  Corollary  to  the  preceding  Proposi- 
tion. And  there  is  no  difference  here,  except  that 
the  soul  will  have  had  eternally  the  same  perfections 
which  we  have  supposed  it  as  beginning  to  acquire, 
associated  with  the  idea  of  God  as  their  eternal  cause. 
For  if  joy  consists  in  the  transition  from  a less  to  a 
greater  state  of  perfection,  beatitude  must  certainly 
consist  in  the  soul  itself  being  endowed  with  perfec- 
tion. 


PROP.  XXXIT. — The  soul  is  not  subject  to  the 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  U^^DERSTA^^DIXG.  329 


affections  that  are  referred  to  as  passions 
except  during  the  existence  of  the  body. 

Demoxstr. — Imagination  is  an  idea  by  which  the 
soul  contemplates  a thing  as  present  {mde  Def.  of  Im- 
agination in  Schol.  to  Prop.  17,  Part  II.),  which  idea, 
liowever,  rather  indicates  the  present  state  of  the 
human  body  than  the  nature  of  an  external  object 
(by  Coroll.  2 to  Prop.  16,  Part  II.).  An  imagination, 
therefore,  is  an  affection  or  passion  (by  Gen.  Def. 
Pass.)  in  so  far  as  it  indicates  the  present  state  of  the 
body,  and  consequently  (by  Prop.  21)  the  soul  is  not 
subject  to  the  affections  that  are  referred  to  as  pas- 
sions except  during  the  continuance  of  the  body. 
Q.  E.  D. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  follows  that  no  love  except  in- 
tellectual love  is  eternal. 

ScnoL. — If  we  have  regard  to  the  common  opinions 
of  men  we  perceive  that  they  are  indeed  conscious  of 
the  eternity  of  their  souls,  but  that  they  confound 
this  eternity  with  duration,  and  assign  to  the  soul 
imagination  or  memory,  which  they  believe  to  remain 
after  death. 


PROP.  XXXV. — Grod  loves  Himself  with  an  in- 
finite intellectual  love. 

Demoxstr. — God  is  absolutely  infinite  (byDef.  fe. 
Part  I.),  or  (by  Def.  6,  Part  II.)  the  nature  of  God 
possesses  infinite  perfection  concomitant  (by  Prop.  3, 
Part  II.)  with  the  idea  of  God,  that  is  (by  Prop.  11 
and  Ax.  1,  Part  I.),  of  Himself  as  Cause  ; and  this  is 
what  in  Coroll,  to  Prop.  32  we  have  called  Intellectual 
Love. 


330 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


PROP.  XXXVI. — The  soul’s  intellectual  love 
towards  God  is  itself  God’s  love  Avlierewith 
God  loves  Himself,  not  as  God  is  intinite, 
hut  in  so  far  as  God  can  he  explained  hv 
the  essence  of  the  human  soul  considered 
under  a form  of  eternity ; in  other  words, 
the  intellectual  love  of  the  soul  towards 
God  is  part  of  the  intinite  love  wherewitli 
God  loves  Himself. 

Demox^stk. — Tliis  love  of  the  soul  must  he  referred 
to  the  actions  of  the  soul  (by  Coroll.  to  Prop.  32 
above,  and  by  Prop.  3,  Part  HI.),  and  is  therefore  an 
action  by  which  the  soul  contemplates  itself  concom- 
itant with  the  idea  of  God  as  Cause  (by  Prop.  32  and 
its  Coroll.) ; in  other  words  (by  Coroll.  Prop.  25,  Part 
I.,  and  Coroll.  Prop.  11,  Part  II.),  it  is  an  action 
whereby  God,  in  so  far  as  God  can  be  explained  by 
the  human  sonl,  contemplates  Himself  associated 
with  the  idea  of  Himself ; so  that  (by  preceding 
Prop.)  this  intellectual  love  of  the  soul  for  God 
is  part  of  the  infinite  love  wherewith  God  loves 
Himself,  q.  e.  n. 

ConoLL. — Hence  it  follows  that  in  so  far  as  God 
loves  Himself,  God  loves  mankind,  and  consequently 
that  the  love  of  God  towards  man,  and  the  intel- 
lectual love  of  the  sonl  of  man  towards  God,  is  one 
and  the 'same. 

SciiOL. — From  this  we  clearly  understand  wherein 
our  salvation,  our  beatitude,  our  freedom  consists, — 
namely,  in  the  constant  and  eternal  love  of  man  to- 
wards God,  or  the  eternal  love  of  God  towards  man. 
This  love,  this  beatitude,  is  spoken  of  in  the  Sacred 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UXDERSTAXDIXG.  331 


Scriptures  as  Glory, — and  not  undeservedly.  For 
whether  this  love  be  referred  to  God  or  to  the  human 
soul  it  is  rightly  called  contentment  or  peace  of  soul, 
which  is  not  to  be  distinguished  from  the  ‘^gloiy  ” of 
the  Scriptures  (by  25  and  30  Def.  Pass.).  For  in  so 
far  as  it  is  referred  to  God  (by  Prop.  35)  this  love  is 
joy  (if  I may  still  be  permitted  to  use  this  word)  con- 
comitant with  the  idea  of  God  ; and  in  so  far  as  it  is, 
referred  to  the  soul  of  man,  it  is  still  the  same  (by 
Prop.  27).  Again:  as  the  essence  of  our  soul  con- 
sists in  knowledge  alone,  whereof  the  beginning  and 
foundation  is  God  (by  Prop.  15,  Part  I.,  and  SchoL  to 
Prop.  47,  Part  II.),  it  is  made  manifest  to  us  how  and 
in  what  way  the  essence  and  existence  of  our  soul 
follows  from  the  Divine  Xature  and  ceaselessly  de- 
pends on  God.  I have  thought  it  proper  to  say  this 
here,  in  order  to  show  how  much  that  knowledge  of 
individual  or  particular  things  which  I have  called 
intuitive  or  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  (Schol.  2, 
Proj).  40,  Part  II.),  is  preferable  to  and  transcends  that 
knowledge  which  is  of  a general  character,  and  which 
I have  designated  as  the  second  kind.  For  although 
ill  the  First  Part  I have  shown  generally  that  all 
things  (and  consequently  the  human  soul  also),  as  re- 
gards their  essence  and  existence,  depended  on  God, 
still  the  demonstration  of  it  there,  although  legiti- 
mate and  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt,  does  not 
affect  our  mind  as  it  does  when  it  is  demonstrated 
from  the  essence  of  the  individual  thing  itself,  which, 
as  we  have  said,  depends  on  God. 

PROP.  XXXYII. — There  is  notliiiig  in  nature 

* Bruder,  in  the  Leipsic  Edition,  1843,  here  cites  from  the  Hebrew, 
Isaiah  vi.  3,  Psalms  viii.  5,  cxiii.  4,  and  from  the  Greek,  John  xL  4, 
Romans  iii.  23,  Epln  i.  17,  18.— Tu. 


832 


Spinoza's  ethics. 


that  is  oj)posed  to  this  intellectual  love,  or 
that  can  annul  or  destroy  it. 

Demonste. — This  intellectual  love  follows  neces- 
sarily from  the  nature  of  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  by  the 
nature  of  God  it  is  considered  as  an  eternal  truth  (by 
Props.  33  and  29).  If,  therefore,  there  were  any- 
thing opposed  to  this  intellectual  love,  it  would  be 
" opposed  to  truth  ; and  consequently  anything  that 
should  annul  or  destroy  this  love  would  make  that 
false  which  is  true,  which  (obviously)  is  absurd. 
Therefore  there  is  nothing  in  nature,  etc.  Q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — The  Axiom  in  the  Fourth  Part  refers  to  in- 
dividual things  considered  in  so  far  as  they  have  re- 
lation with  a certain  time  and  place,  of  which  I think 
no  one  will  doubt. 

PKOP.  XXXVIII. — The  greater  the  number  of 
things  the  soul  understands  with  the  second 
and  third  kinds  of  knowledge,  the  less  will 
it  suffer  from  the  x^assions  that  are  evil  or 
bad,  and  the  less  will  it  fear  death. 

Demonstr. — The  essence  of  the  soul  consists  in 
Jinowincf  (by  Prop.  11,  Part  II.).  Therefore  the 
greater  the  number  of  things  the  soul  knows  by  the 
second  and  third  kinds  of  knowledge,  the  greater  will 
be  the  part  of  it  that  is  occupied  with  knowing  and 
which  abides  eternally  (by  Proj)s.  29  and  23)  ; and 
consequently  (by  preceding  Prop.)  the  greater  will  be 
the  part  not  subject  to  the  x^assions  which  are  op- 
X^osed  to  our  X3roper  nature,  that  is  (by  Prox3.  30,  Part 
lY.),  bad  x^assions.  Wherefore  the  greater  the  num- 
ber of  things  the  soul  understands  by  the  second  and 
third  kinds  of  knowledge  the  greater  is  the  part  of  it 


PT.  Y.— FEEEDO^r— POWEPv  OF  THE  UNHERSTANDIIs^G.  333 


that  is  free  from  the  influence  of,  and  that  conse- 
quently escapes  suffering  from,  the  passions  that  are 
bad,  and  the  less  will  it  fear  death,  q.  e.  d. 

SciiOL. — By  this  we  may  understand  that  which  I 
merely  touched  upon  in  the  Scholium  to  Prop.  39, 
Part  lY.,  and  which  I promised  to  explain  in  this 
Fifth  Part,  namely — that  death  is  by  so  much  the  less 
destructive  as  the  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  the 
soul  is  greater,  and  consequently  as  the  soul  loves  God 
the  more.  Again,  as  (by  Prop.  27)  the  highest,  the 
most  perfect  peace  or  satisfaction  the  soul  can  enjoy 
arises  from  the  third  kind  of  knowledge,  hence  it  fol- 
lows that  the  human  soul  may  be  of  such  a nature 
that  the  part  of  it  Avhich,  as  we  have  shown,  perishes 
with  the  body  {^ide  Prop.  21),  may,  when  compared 
with  that  which  remains  and  abides  eternally,  be  of 
no  moment.  But  of  this  we  shall  speak  more  fully. 


PROP.  XXXIX. — He  Avhose  body  is  apt  for  or 
capable  of  a great  number  of  functions,  has 
a soul  the  greater  part  of  which  is  eternal. 

Demoxstr. — He  whose  body  is  capable  of  acting  in 
many  ways  is  the  least  affected  by  passions  that  are 
evil  (by  Prop.  38,  Part  lY.),  that  is  (by  Prop.  30, 
Part  lY.),  by  passions  contrary  to  our  proper  nature  ; 
and,  therefore  (by  Prop.  10),  he  has  the  power  of 
ordering  and  concatenating  the  affections  of  his  body 
according  to  the  order  of  the  understanding,  and  con- 
sequently (by  Prop.  14)  the  power  of  referring  all 
the  affections  of  his  body  to  the  idea  of  God  ; whence 
it  comes  to  pass  (by  Prop.  15)  that  he  is  affected 
with  love  towards  God,  which  (by  Prop.  16),  as  it  oc- 
cupies or  constitutes  the  greatest  part  of  his  soul,  so 


334 


spixoza’s  ethics. 


(by  Prop.  28)  lias  lie  a soul  the  greatest  part  of  which 
is  eternal,  q.  e.  d. 

SciioL. — Inasmuch  as  lininan  bodies  are  capable  of 
a great  many  actions,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  their 
nature  may  be  such  as  to  be  referable  to  souls  that 
have  much  knowledge  of  themselves  and  of  God,  and 
of  which  the  greater  or  principal  part  is  eternal,  so 
that  they  have  scarcely  any  fear  of  death.  But  in 
order  that  this  may  be  more  clearly  understood,  it 
may  be  observed  here  that  we  live  in  a state  of  inces- 
sant change,  and  that  as  Ave  change  for  the  better  or 
the  Avorse,  so  are  Ave  said  to  be  ha^ipy  or  unhappy. 
The  infant  or  child  Avlioni  death  changes  into  a corpse 
is  said  to  be  unhappy  or  unfortunate  ; and  on  the 
other  hand,  happiness  is  ascribed  to  him  Avho  lives 
through  all  the  allotted  years  of  man  Avitli  a sound 
mind  in  a sound  body.  And  indeed  the  infant  or 
child  Avhose  body  is  apt  for  but  feAv  functions  and 
greatly  dependent  upon  external  causes,  has  a soul 
Avhich,  considered  in  itself  alone,  is  scarcely  con- 
scious either  of  itself,  or  of  God,  or  of  things  ; AAdiilst 
he,  on  the  contrary,  Avho  has  a body  apt  or  capable  of 
many  functions,  has  a soul  AAiiich,  considered  in  itself 
alone,  is  greatly  conscious  of  itself,  of  God,  and  of 
things.  In  this  life,  therefore,  it  is  one  of  our  chiefest 
cares  that  the  body  of  the  child  may  be  developed 
into  one  Avhich  shall,  as  much  as  its  nature  permits, 
be  apt  for  many  things,  and  be  joined  AAdth  a soul 
greatly  conscious  of  itself,  of  God,  and  of  things  ; 
and  tliis  in  such  a Avay  that  all  that  is  referred  to 
memory  or  imagination  shall  be  of  little  moment  in 
comparison  Avith  that  AAdiich  is  referred  to  the  under- 
standing, as  I have  just  said  in  the  Scholium  to  the 
preceding  Proposition. 


PT.  Y. — FREEDO^H — POAVER  OF  THE  UXBEP.STAXHIXG.  335 


PROP.  XL. — The  more  of  perfection  any  indi- 
yidiial  thing  possesses,  the  more  does  it 
act  and  the  less  does  it  suffer  ; and,  re- 
ciprocalh^,  the  more  it  acts  the  more  per- 
fect it  is. 

Demoxstr. — The  more  perfect  anything  is,  the 
more  reality  it  has  (by  Del  6,  Part  II.)  ; and  con- 
sequently (by  Prop.  3 and  its  SchoL,  Part  III.)  the 
more  it  acts  and  the  less  it  suffers  ; — and  proceeding 
with  the  demonstration  in  the  same  way,  but  in  an 
inverse  order,  it  follows  that  the  more  perfect  a thing 
is,  the  more  it  acts.  Q.  e.  n. 

Coroll. — Hence  it  folloAvs  that  the  part  of  the 
soul  which  remains  or  abides  eternally,  whatever  its 
amount,  is  more  perfect  than  the  other  part.  Xow 
(by  Props.  23  and  29)  the  eternal  ijart  of  the  soul  is 
the  understanding^  by  vrhicli  alone  we  say  we  act  (by 
Pro2:>.  3,  Part  III.)  ; but,  as  we  have  shown  (by  Prop. 
21),  the  iwj't  of  the  soul  that  perishes  is  the  imagina- 
tion^ by  Avhich  alone  we  say  we  suffer  (by  Prop.  3, 
Part  III.,  and  the  Gen.  Del  Pass.),  and  therefore  (by 
preceding  Prop.)  the  former  part,  whatever  its 
amount,  is  the  more  perfect  part.  Q.  e.  n. 

ScnoL. — These,  as  I have  shown,  are  the  jDarts  that 
constitute  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  it  is  considered  with- 
out relation  to  the  existence  of  the  body.  From  the 
preceding  Propositions,  and  also  from  Prop.  21,  Part 
I.,  and  others,  it  appears  that  our  soul  in  so  far  as  it 
understands  is  an  eternal  mode  of  thought,  which 
is  determined  by  another  eternal  mode  of  thought, 
and  that  by  still  another,  and  so  on  to  infinity, — so 
that  all  these  modes  together  constitute  the  eternal 
and  infinite  intelligence  of  God. 


336 


spixoza’s  ethics. 

PKOP.  XLI. — Altlioiigli  Ave  did  not  knoAA^  tliat 
our  soul  is  eternal,  yet  Piety,  Ileligion,  and 
all  besides  that  is  referred  to  Courage  and 
Generosity,  as  sliOAvn  in  our  Poiirth  Part, 
AA  oiild  have  to  be  held  as  of  tlie  first,  the 
liigliest  importance  in  this  life. 

Deaioxste.— The  first,  the  only  foundation  of  Aurtne 
or  the  rule  of  living  right  is  (by  Coroll,  to  Prop.  22 
and  by  Prop.  24,  Part  IT.)  the  pursuit  of  that  AA^hich 
is  truly  useful  to  us.  But  in  determining  AAdiat  reason 
prescribes  as  useful  to  man,  Ave  had  no  ground  for 
concluding  that  the  soul  Avas  immortal  until  Ave  came 
to  this,  our  Fifth  Part.  Although  therefore  Ave  Av^ere 
at  that  tkne  uninformed  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  AA’e  neA^ertheless  then  held  all  those  Aurtues  that 
are  referred  to  Courage  and  Generosity  to  be  of  the 
first  importance  ; and  eA^en  Avere  Av^e  noAv  still  unin- 
formed of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  Av^e  should  still 
hold  these  virtues  to  be  the  prime  prescription  of 
reason,  q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL. — The  Amlgar  belief  seems  to  be  different 
from  this.  For  most  men  appear  to  think  themselves 
free  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  permitted  to  gratify 
their  lusts  or  evil  passions,  and  that  they  give  up 
their  rights  AAdien  held  to  live  according  to  the  pre- 
scriptions of  the  Divine  They  therefore  esteem 

piety  and  religion,  and  indeed  all  that  is  referred  to 
fortitude  or  strength  of  mind,  as  burdens  Avhich  they 
expect  to  lay  doAvn  after  death,  when  they  hope  to 
receive  a reAA^ard  for  their  servitude,  i.e.  for  their 
piety  and  religion  in  this  life.  Xor  is  it  even  this 
hope  alone  that  leads  them ; the  fear  of  frightful 
punishments  Avith  AAdiich  they  are  menaced  after  death 


PT.  V. — FREEDOM — POWER  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.  337 


also  influences  them  to  live — in  so  far  as  their  im- 
potence and  poverty  of  spirit  permits — in  conformity 
with  the  prescriptions  of  the  Divine  law.  And  were 
not  this  hope  and  fear  infused  into  the  minds  of  men, 
bat  on  the  contrary,  did  they  believe  that  the  soul 
perished  with  the  body  and  that,  beyond  the  grave, 
there  was  no  other  life  prepared  for  the  wretched  who 
had  borne  the  burden  of  piety  in  this,  it  is  said  they 
would  yield  to  their  natural  inclinations,  and  passing 
all  bounds  of  moderation  give  themselves  up  to  their 
lusts  or  evil  passions,  obeying  fortune  rather  than 
reason.  But  this  appears  to  me  no  less- absurd  than 
it  would  be  to  suppose  that  a man,  because  he  did  not 
believe  that  he  could  nourish  his  body  eternally  with 
wholesome  food,  would  satiate  himself  with  deadly 
poisons  ; or  than  if  because  believing  that  his  soul  was 
not  eternal  or  immortal,  he  should  therefore  elect  to 
live  like  one  out  of  his  senses  and  devoid  of  reason. 
Such  absurdities  are  unworthy  of  consideration. 

PROP.  XLII. — Beatitude  is  not  the  reward  of 
virtue,  but  virtue  itself ; nor  do  we  enjoy 
it  because  we  restrain  our  lusts ; on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  because  we  enjoy  beatitude  that 
we  are  able  to  restrain  our  lusts. 

De.aionstr. — Beatitude  consists  in  love  towards 
God  thy  Prop.  36  and  its  Schol.) — the  love  which 
arises  from  the  third  kind  of  knowledge  (by  Coroll, 
to  Prop.  32).  This  love  must  therefore  be  referred  to 
the  soul  in  so  far  as  it  is  active  (by  Props.  59  and  3, 
Part  Ill.j,  and  consequently  (by  Def.  8,  Part.  lY.)  it 
is  virtue  itself.  This  in  the  first  ]3lace.  Further,  the 
more  the  soul  enjoys  of  this  Divine  love  or  beatitude, 
the  more  does  it  understand  (by  Prop.  32),  that  is  (by 


338  SPINOZA^  S ETHICS. 

Coroll,  to  Prop.  3),  the  greater  is  its  power  over  the 
passions,  and  (by  Prop.  38)  the  less  does  it  suffer  from 
the  passions  that  are  hurtful ; and  thus  it  is,  and  be- 
cause the  soul  possesses  this  Divine  love  or  beati- 
tude, that  it  has  the  power  of  restraining  its  lusts 
or  evil  passions  ; and  this  human  power  of  restrain- 
ing the  passions  consists  solely  in  understanding. 
No  one,  therefore,  enjoys  beatitude  because  he  re- 
strains his  passions  ; on  the  contrary,  the  power  of 
restraining  them  arises  from  beatitude  itself.  Q.  e.  d. 

ScHOL. — This  comiiletes  all  that  I wished  to  say  re- 
specting the  freedom  of  the  soul  and  its  power  over  the 
passions.  And  from  this  it  clearly  appears  how  much 
the  wise  excel  in  power,  and  how  much  better  are 
they  than  the  ignorant  who  act  merely  from  appetite 
or  desire.  For  the  ignorant  man,  besides  being  agi- 
tated in  many  and  various  ways  by  external  causes, 
and  never  possessing  true  peace  of  soul,  lives  as  if 
unconscious  of  himself,  of  God,  and  of  all  things, 
and  only  ceases  to  suffer  when  he  ceases  to  be.  The 
Avise  man,  on  the  contrary,  in  so  far  considered  as  he 
is  truly  wise,  is  scarcely  ever  troubled  in  his  thoughts, 
but,  by  a certain  eternal  necessity,  is  conscious  of 
himself,  of  God,  and  of  things,  never  ceases  to  be, 
and  is  always  in  possession  of  true  peace  of  soul.  If 
the  way  I have  pointed  out  as  leading  to  freedom  ap- 
pears very  difficult,  it  may  nevertheless  be  found. 
And  indeed  that  must  needs  be  difficult  wdiich  is  so 
seldom  attained.  For  liow  should  it  happen,  if  the 
soul’s  freedom  or  salvation  were  close  at  hand  and 
to  be  achieved  without  great  labor,  that  it  is  so  uni- 
versally neglected  \ But  all  things  of  highest  excel- 
lence are  as  difficult  of  attainment  as  they  are  rare. 


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